


Care For a Mint?

by Spot_On60



Category: Suits (TV), Suits - Fandom, The A-Team (2010), The A-Team - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-22 16:43:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 37,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9616448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spot_On60/pseuds/Spot_On60
Summary: It's gone on too long. The team need to explore their legal options. Harvey and Mike are just the duo they need.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I suggest reading Telling Secrets before diving into this one. It isn't absolutely necessary but would be helpful.  
> If you're unfamiliar with either fandom see end notes.

**Spoiler Alert:** If you're planning on reading  [Telling Secrets](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7019947/chapters/15978919), do so before continuing here.

 

 

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"Why are we still running?" Hannibal's question came at breakfast in the sunny nook of the latest house Face had scammed for them to stay in.

Three heads lifted and looked at him, looked amongst each other and returned to Hannibal.

"What are you gettin' at, Boss?" asked BA.

The answer was pretty simple. They were avoiding being returned to prison for breaking out of prison to prove, successfully, they didn't belong in prison. Okay, it wasn't that simple, nothing in their lives these past few years had been simple. But this wasn't what Hannibal was asking.

"We've been on the run long enough. I think it's time we do something constructive to bring an end to this." Hannibal took another sip of coffee and looked around the table.

"What have you two got in mind?" Murdock asked looking back and forth between Hannibal and Face.

Face shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, but Hannibal interjected, "We haven't been discussing it. I'm asking you all for myself and as a team."

Murdock wasn't off the mark in thinking Hannibal and Face had already discussed the topic. Face was their Lieutenant and team sniper. Even though Murdock as a Captain outranked him, he was still Hannibal's second and their XO. Beside, Face and Hannibal had been a couple for years now. Though missing the rings and the certificate, they were for all intents and purposes a married couple.

Hannibal was feeling the need for this whole situation, hell, this whole way of life to come to an end. His stamina was waning. These jobs they took were feeling more and more dangerous; although, he didn't know if they were any worse than when they started this or not. Perhaps it was just his weariness. It seemed to him the people they came up against these days were significantly more brazen.

There was more deadly firepower out on the streets. There had been a time when most of the firearms were in the hands of the bad guys, bad enough. Now there were guns of all shapes and sizes everywhere. The guy who hired them for this last job almost killed Murdock by mistaking him for one of the men hired by their competition.

Murdock took a few extra anti-anxiety pills and got on with his life. Face was a different story. Watching as his best friend hit the floor when the shot was fired had him coming unglued.

They managed to get through the gunfight and tie up the thugs and the man who hired said thugs. When it was over BA had to pull Face off the hapless gas station owner/client when their XO raged at him over the stripe of blood now decorating their pilot's temple. BA had him on the ground while it took all three of them to calm him enough for his eyes to come back into focus to see Murdock was right there, alive and well. The bullet had burned across his skin, nothing more.

It was something that had been happening too often. In one way Temp was mellowing. Hannibal noted he was more soft spoken. He took time to appreciate the beauty around him. He was preferring quiet evenings to his old dance club nights.

However, in other ways his struggles with mania, though less frequent, were becoming more pronounced. It had manifested so randomly after he had been kidnapped and assaulted on a job that went to shit two years before. Manifested wasn't exactly true, resurfaced was more accurate. Though seeing a therapist to help him with the emotional fallout he was still plagued by these manic episodes. Hannibal understood the issue had been with Face for most of his adult life, but seldom presented itself. Well, until recently when it could come out of nowhere.

After the incident with Murdock, BA approached Hannibal asking if it wasn't time to start thinking of medication for Face like they did for Murdock. It was the catalyst for his serious consideration of extricating themselves from this mess.

He wanted to believe it was the stress of their lifestyle that was triggering Temp. If they could just settle down it would all be okay. He wasn't foolish enough to not consider alternatives. It could be Temp did need medications. But it would be much easier for them if they could seek the best treatment, not just adequate due to their criminal status.

Besides his proprietary feelings toward Face, it didn't take a rocket surgeon to know Murdock would be better off with regular mental healthcare. And the stress on BA had seen him reverting more often to his old sullen ways. He was due a position in society where that big heart and clever mechanical engineer brain of his could blossom.

"I'd like to know how each of us feel about it. For myself? I'm tired. It's wearing on me. You two may not know," he said wagging a finger between BA and Murdock, "but Face does. I want to eventually settle down. Buy a home for the two of us. I've been thinking a lot lately that eventually is now."

"Bossman, I'd give just about anything to return to Chicago with my head held high. My mamma doesn't deserve to live under the weight of knowing her son is a wanted man." BA was shaking his head. "If you have a way out of this, I'm all for giving it a try." This was more than Hannibal had expected from the man. Built like a workhorse and adorned with a Mohawk, BA was an introspective man of few words.

"I want to get back in the sky. I want to fly for my livelihood. Not just the occasional job where we scam a chopper or a beat-to-hell plane. If we can go public again I could get my licensing back. I'm willing to try whatever you come up with too."

Hannibal turned to Face, "What about you Temp?"

Face shook his head. "You know what I want. I want to be with you, however, wherever." He took another sip of coffee. "What a'ya thinkin'?"

"Think the first thing we need to do is hire an attorney," Hannibal offered.

Face agreed. "But with our situation, we can't use just any old lawyer."

"Yeah, Facey. We need Daniel Webster." The other three were caught up short. Not an unusual situation when it came to Murdock's ideas.

"Okaaaay? Maybe someone who is still alive." Suggested BA. "Is Dershowitz still around? Or how about Cochran?"

"I read Dershowitz retired and didn't Cochran die like ten years ago?," Face added. "I'll put some feelers out for a shark."

 

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're unfamiliar with Suits, it is based in New York City. 
> 
> Harvey Specter is a Corporate Attorney known as the best closer in the city. He is handsome, arrogant and proud. After several changes within, his firm is now called Pearson, Specter, Litt.
> 
> Pearson is Jessica Pearson, a driven and calculating African American woman who has clawed her way to the top in NYC law. She is tall, beautiful and elegant.
> 
> Litt is Louis Litt a master of Financial Law who can be a conniving little rat when he puts his mind to it.He became a named partner by blackmailing his way in.
> 
> Mike Ross was a young near do well who meets Harvey while running from the police with a briefcase full of pot. He impressed Harvey with his eidetic memory. Although being kicked out of college, Harvey hires him as a first year attorney. A secret that Jessica is forced to live with and Louis uses for his own gain. 
> 
>  
> 
> If you are unfamiliar with The A-Team they are a group of four former U.S. Army Rangers who were set up for the theft of U.S. currency engraving plates in Iraq. 
> 
> The team consists of John "Hannibal" Smith, their leader. Templeton "Faceman" Peck, Hannibal's second and the team sniper. BA "Bad Attitude" Baracus, strongman and mechanical genius. H.M. "Howling Mad" Murdoch, pilot with some mental stability issues.
> 
> Long story short. They were set up by General Russ Morrison a trusted friend of Hannibal's; Brock Pike a mercenary rent a soldier employed in Iraq; and Lynch (actually CIA agent Burress). Through a long string of events the A-Team cleared their good names but were still wanted by the U.S. Government. 
> 
> If you need more on either fandom watch the show, watch the movie, or check out Wikipedia.


	2. Chapter 2

"Good evening, Sir. Thank you for seeing me."

"What do you have that's so important. I'm going to be late for the General's dinner?"

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to get here sooner," he replied handing over a folder.

Director McCready only needed a glance for a shockwave to roll through his system. "When was the request made?"

"Forty-three days ago, Sir."

"And it's been delivered." It was a question. A question he suspected he already knew the answer to.

"Yes, Sir."

"How the fuck did this happen without this office being made aware?!!" McCready's legendary cool snapped. The DCIS Deputy Director of International Operations was considered unflappable. Although tonight he was clearly flapped.

The messenger did his best to deflect the shot, but the outburst made him jerk. "I...I don't have an answer for you, Sir."

McCready was tapping fervently on his cell phone. "Get out!" he barked at the hapless soldier.

A Major himself, the soldier wasn't used to being spoken to like an enlisted whipping boy; however, he spared no time moving to vacate the office. Before he made it through the door he heard the Director, "Randall! McCready here. Hold on a second." Then to the Major, "Major! I want your name and CO. Write it here." He was holding up a small tablet of paper.

After writing the information he handed the pad back. McCready took it saying, "I assume I don't need to mention you are to speak to no one about this."

"No, Sir."

"Go on and close the door behind you." As soon as the door clicked he spoke into his phone, "Randall."  
.......

"It's Hannibal and his A-Team. We're looking at some trouble."  
.......

"Looks like they've hired an attorney and have received documents they never should have had access to."  
........

"Request was made by one Michael J. Ross on behalf of himself and Harvey R. Specter, both of Pearson, Specter and Litt - New York."


	3. Chapter 3

Harvey was contemplating the case in front of him. Moving his eyes from his computer to the young man seated at the small glass conference table located in his office, he volleyed about different scenarios that could come into play in their action. There were innumerable possibilities to take in and considerations to juggle.

He had gone up against U.S government agencies before. Never looked at them any differently than any other opponent, but was that a wise move in this case? Was he overthinking or was he being legitimately skeptical and cautious? It was so unlike him, but he had to wonder what the hell was he doing getting involved in this case. Yet on the other hand, how often had he backed down? Was he truly going to show a chink in his armor just because this time the agencies were the DOJ and DCIS combined? Or was it because it was compounded by previous involvement by the CIA and Office of the Secretary of Defense?

Interestingly enough he hadn't considered SOD involvement until they stuck their nose in it. Within days of receiving his FOIA documents he received an apparently random and inconsequential survey via DCIS regarding various aspects of using the FOIA, with a fill in the blank area as to why the information had been requested. By possible carelessness the fax header remained on the upper margin of the document clearly spelling out Office of the Secretary of Defense.

Mike had noticed it while resorting and amalgamating the packages of documents and pointed it out. The two considered the situation. Was it truly carelessness or were they meant to know of the involvement? Perhaps be intimidated by the knowledge? There and then they knew this was going to be even less pretty then they had anticipated. Harvey wasted no time rolling his eyes. This was going to be a complete pain in his ass. And yet Jessica wanted these clients. She wanted them and knew there was only one person to lead the charge. Even if from the very beginning Harvey wanted nothing to do with them and their case.

"Jessica, we don't do this. We don't practice criminal law. I say we refer them to Jenkins and Harlow."

It had then been presented to Harvey as a challenge several of his equals from Boston, Chicago and L.A. had already turned down as too risky and questionably unwinable. Jessica added it had been a long time since Harvey had worked in the DA's office. It was probably best he didn't fumble a case on the national news, perhaps the firm shouldn't take it; or maybe it would be better to assign it to someone else. After all he and Mike were still cleaning up Briscoe. Oh she knew how to play the man.

Harvey being Harvey may have let his testosterone get the better of him this time. That, however, was exactly what Jessica had been counting on. Not only would the case allow him to do what he did best, close the deal, it would also skyrocket his recognition. Stroke him. And, admittedly of lesser interest to him but of utmost importance to Jessica, with his increased recognition his firm's recognition would also rise. And increased name recognition was foremost in Jessica Pearson's mind; Jessica Pearson of Pearson, Specter and Litt. She had been considering a criminal law section within the firm. This could give them a boost in the right direction.

Harvey Specter is thought of as the best closer in the city. When the city you're referring to is New York City the inference is, of course, significant. Within the legal community everyone knows the name Harvey Specter, but these clients could easily change that by removing the qualifier "within the legal community". After all, there aren't any such caveats attached to the clients themselves. It is safe to say if not everyone knows of former Colonel Hannibal Smith, they certainly know of his A-Team.

 

"You need something, Harvey?" Mike was asking, noticing the named partner's eyes on him.

"What?" Harvey was coming out of his thoughts, "No. Have you wound up Briscoe?" referring to the case Mike was sorting. The file still had miscellaneous pages to be scanned and the completed case's paperwork to be filed.

"Not quite. Almost there."

"Get a move on, kid. I'm going to need you on this one full time. Need you on it now."

"Just have to check these last folders," holding up three manilla file folders, "and scan these pages," pointing at a six inch stack of paper, "and I'm good to go. You want me to look at something? Get a head start on that one now? I can finish this tomorrow."

"No, get that out of here so we have room to spread out in the morning. If you can't finish it on your own in the next hour turn it over to someone else. Actually, you should turn it over to someone else anyway."

"Really, I can finish this another time."

"Why do I still hear talking?"

The kid smiled and dropped his head back to his task. Mike had stacks of folders and two legal boxes spread across the table plus the few folders he had yet to complete directly in front of him. He could be doing the work at his own desk, but Harvey had him bring it to his office under the pretense of wanting Mike on hand to run ideas by.

Harvey smiled to himself when Mike's brow furrowed in concentration and his highlighter again dragged across a page. As a rule Harvey didn't need, nor particularly want, a sounding board. The kid however needed the background support to help him hold his concentration. His recent breakup with paralegal Rachel Zane had left him rattled. Not that Harvey cared. Ask anyone. Harvey typically didn't care about anything or one besides the case before him at any particular time. If you asked him directly he would deny any concern.

Yet when he saw his former associate, now junior partner, faltering it didn't actually take his tactical mind to figure out the issue. He knew Mike was heartsick. A broken engagement was nothing to sniff at. Even Harvey wasn't that heartless.

Harvey didn't ask for the details of what transpired between Mike and the lovely paralegal/law school student. He truly didn't care about that, but it was becoming more and more difficult to deny to himself that he cared about the effect it had on the young man. Not only cared his work was slipping, but also cared about the dark circles under his eyes and his general lethargy.

 

When the young man and his briefcase full of pot had stumbled into his interviews for an associate, an associate to be picked from the anemic ranks of recent Harvard Law School graduates, Harvey was impressed. And saying Harvey was impressed was tantamount to saying water had been discovered on Mars.

Young Mike Ross had certainly piqued his curiosity if nothing else. So he wasn't a Harvard Law School graduate, a requirement of all attorneys of Pearson Hardman, as the firm was then called. So he didn't have a law degree. Alright the kid didn't have a degree at all, but for Harvey those were just details.

While as interested and solicitous of details as anyone else, Harvey was also well aware myopia could be a bane. Though it went against all assumptions of commonsensical thought, Harvey hired the kid with the eidetic memory and seldom looked back. They enjoyed an almost immediate easy rapport. Though it took Mike a little time to truly catch onto Harvey's dry and often sardonic and paradoxical wit, the two soon fell into synch, so often feeding off one another.

Harvey drove Mike hard and couldn't help developing a somewhat grudging appreciation and admiration for the young pseudo-lawyer. Then without warning, while in the midst of one of their frequent banters, Harvey suddenly went quiet. Mike was immediately concerned by the change.

"You okay, Harvey?" Reaching for the older man's bicep to offer a steadying hand if needed.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just occurred to me what extra background I'll need for the Treadwell case," he lied. In fact, Harvey had looked up from the file in his hands straight into those crystal blue eyes. When had he become smitten with this young man? How had he not noticed before? How the hell had he missed somewhere along the line he had fallen in love?

Mike had been in the flux between one of his jabs, awaiting a return lob from the partner when Harvey saw it. The kid could be on the cover of GQ. Moving down from the clear blue eyes to the lean slope of his face to his jaw seemed to draw one's eyes to the perpetually pursed lips. Lips that had, to Harvey, become exceedingly kissable.

Beside the physicality, it became clear to him here was someone Harvey thought of as an equal. Sure Mike was young and far less experienced, but that didn't mean he wasn't on the same intellectual scale as the older lawyer. He was probably intellectually superior to Harvey. Something Harvey found extremely attractive.

This was a problem. This worried and confused Harvey. This was something he had needed to draw all of his inner resources to combat. There were too many obstacles here. Mike was a decade younger than Harvey. They were certainly not equals in the workplace. Harvey was Mike's boss. And the biggest problem was Mike had never given any indication he was at all attracted to men. None that Harvey had seen.

Though all of Harvey's romantic relationships, if you could even call them that, were with women, that didn't stop him from having sexual dalliances with members of the male population. Harvey didn't call himself bisexual, he liked to refer to the whole thing as "continental". Whether that was a misnomer or not, it made sense in his head.

Along the same time as his revelation, Mike had begun seeing Rachel in earnest. They had, in Harvey's opinion, a bit of a Romeo and Juliet thing going on. Contrary to popular belief, that's never a good thing, always ended badly. Rachel's father, the indomitable attorney Robert Zane, Papa Capulet, was the antagonist in this little drama, convinced there was something not right with the young man his only daughter had fallen for. There of course was something to the sentiment. Mike after all was a fraud.

But they were young and in love and it was a beautiful thing. And it put further brakes on for Harvey who had not dated inside the office. (Okay, there was Scottie, but that went nowhere fast and it hadn't actually started in the office.) And it looked like a wedding gift was in order. And everything would be rainbows and sunshine until it wasn't anymore.

Mike had shown up at Harvey's door one night just as the eleven o'clock news was coming on. His eyes were red and watery, cheeks swollen. He said he didn't want to sleep at the office, but couldn't think of anywhere else to go. He couldn't remain in the apartment he had shared with Rachel. Harvey said nothing. Just closed the door behind him, followed him down the hallway. Mike walked around the breakfast bar. Harvey ducked in the kitchen to pour him a drink.

Mike threw the Macallan 18 back like a shot of cheap bourbon. Harvey bit his tongue at the folly. Setting the glass down on the counter Mike dropped his head as the tears came full on.

"Come here, kid," was all Harvey said. There was nothing he could tell him that would make an iota of difference in the way the young man felt. There was nothing he could say that would cob his arms around him as the breaths came in hitches and the tears dampened Harvey's shoulder.

Harvey guided him to the sofa asking if he wanted to talk.

"No," Mike whispered.

Harvey was expecting him to begin anyway. When it didn't come he eventually rested his hand on Mike's back while the kid leaned forward looking at the floor between his feet. "Come on, Rookie. Let's go to bed."

Harvey led the way to the guest bedroom extending his arm into the room in invitation before leaving him. When he returned with bath towels Mike was sitting on the edge of the bed. "Do you want some sweats to sleep in? You're going to need that suit for work tomorrow. Or do you still have a spare at the office?" When he received a noncommittal shrug for an answer he took it as a yes, either way.

Upon returning to the room, along with a toothbrush and deodorant, he brought a short stack of garments. Flannel sleep pants and a T-shirt for the night. For the following morning there was a clean white shirt, an unopened package of boxer briefs, and a pair of socks.

"Thanks," Mike murmured. Then turning his eyes upward, "I'm sorry, Harvey. Sorry to bother you at home."

Harvey moved in front of him placing a hand on his head. "Don't ever be sorry for coming to me." It wasn't the first time Mike had shown up at his door in distress. Harvey's tough as nails, get your act together, standard approach seemed way out of line this night. His hand made one stroke down the back of Mike's head and dragged along his jaw before dropping away. "Goodnight, Mike."

 

There he was, no longer contemplating his new case but observing Mike as the kid read through the paperwork, jotting down the occasional note or scratching the occasional highlight.

"I can hear you staring at me."

Harvey slid into a half smile. "How about dinner tonight?"

"Sure. I can call for a pizza to be delivered. When should we break?"

"I meant at my place."

"Oh....Really?"

"No Mike. I wanted to offer then pull the rug out from under you at the last minute. Yes really. What a ya say we leave at a ridiculous hour? Say five?"

Mike's lips parted when he looked at Harvey. "Is there something wrong?"

Harvey's eyes crinkled from the genuine smile that spread across his face, a sight Mike was surprised to recently discover was becoming more and more appealing. "Yeah there's something wrong. We seem to have a serious trust issue arising," Harvey said jokingly.

Mike looked at him wide eyed. "I don't want you to think that, Harvey."

 _The kid just isn't himself_ , Harvey thought. This conversation never would have taken this sudden turn had he been. He would have gotten the joke and they would have moved on. "Mike, you worked hard on Briscoe. Your interpretation of the e-mail was pivotal. You deserve a break before we plunge into the next one. But if you'd rather not come by, that's fine. You can still go at six."

"You said five."

"That's if you're coming with me." Harvey smirked. "That's when I plan on having Ray pick me up."

Mike slid into a tentative smile. "Yeah, Harvey. I'd like that."

"If you'd like to spend the night, I'll have Ray swing by your place so you can pick up what you need. Let me know."

"Thank you. I'll do that. I mean I'll let you know." His blue eyes were searching Harvey for a hint. Did Harvey want him to stay or was he just making the offer? He had to shake his thoughts. He was overtired, he knew Harvey didn't make offers he didn't mean.

The junior partner scoured the last of the files and had gathered what he needed to run through the large scanner. "Mind if I leave these boxes here for now. I'll come back for them a little later."

"That's fine. But Mike, you're a partner now. Pass that on to an associate or paralegal.

With his arms full of files and loose paper, Mike stopped at the office door. "Harvey?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't sleep well at night."

"That's what porno theaters are for."

"Taxi Driver?"

Harvey only smiled at him. They have a penchant for quoting movies at appropriate, and sometimes not so appropriate, moments.

"I'd like to stay the night, if you're sure it's not a bother. I've kinda had a hard time sleeping in the empty..." He paused. "I might get a better night..."

Harvey wanted to egg him on, joke with him, quote Sleepless in Seattle but stopped himself. Instead he said as he rose to open the office door for the young man, "It's not a bother Mike."


	4. Chapter 4

"Gonna miss you, Beau." Face was on top of the sheets watching Hannibal undress.

Hannibal looked on his handsome lover. "I want to take a quick shower."

"Why bother? I hope to have you sweated up within the hour."

Hannibal chuckled. "I'm a considerate lover. What about you? Care to join me?"

"Took a shower earlier. Squeaky clean inside and out." Hannibal watched as Face, keeping his feet flat on the bed, brought up his knees and spread his legs, straining the inseam of his jeans.

Hannibal stopped the whimper in his throat before it could escape. Sometimes the kid could be downright pornagraphic. "Won't be more than a few minutes. Will you still be waiting?"

"Um, I may not see you for a week or more, a lot more. Oh yeah, I'll be waiting." Face was resting his forearms on his knees. He'd always wait for Hannibal.

 

Hannibal dug through the nylon bag that held his toiletries, removing the items he needed. He prepared his bulb and filled it with warm water. With a picture of his man in mind he began his cleanse. When done he stepped under the spray head.

Back out of the shower he toweled off his body and scrubbed his hair. Before hanging the length of terry cloth on the rack, he wiped off the vanity mirror and cracked the door letting some of the steam escape. The man took a good look at himself in the mirror.

Wasn't getting any younger. His hair had greyed early giving him the appearance of someone fifteen or more years older. Years spent outside in the elements had weathered his face. He assessed his naked body. It was easy to map out his career in the Army and beyond by the scars that riddled it. The form reflected was in relatively good shape for a man in his late fifties. He shook his head as he thought it, _For a man my age_.

He heard movement outside the door, Temp. Lathering his face to shave his thoughts went to the man waiting for him. Templeton "Face" Peck had been on his way out of the Army by way of a court marshall twenty something, almost thirty years before. That their paths crossed was nothing short of a miracle.

It took fifteen years for Hannibal to finally invite his young officer into a relationship. He was taken with him from the beginning, but if Hannibal is anything, he's a gentleman. He hadn't dreamt of making a pass at his XO as a young man. He knew Face had lied about his age to join the service. With a seventeen year age difference, Hannibal didn't want even a whiff of impropriety. Didn't want Face to feel in anyway pressured to submit to a superior officer. Time, age and maturity took care of that.

When mostly finished shaving he again studied his face. He huffed a chuckle looking down to rinse the blade before bringing it back up to carefulły trim along his nonexistent sideburns. He still marveled at his good fortune to have a man he was so utterly in love with. Even after these many years, after all they had been through, Temp was still there and still his.

He rinsed his face and reached out for a towel hanging from the bar on the wall. Missing the first grasp he looked toward where it hung and had to smile. Face wasn't kidding about "inside and out". Only now did Hannibal register his lover's bulb washed and drying on the vanity under the towel bar. He wiped his face and rehung the towel before washing his own bulb and placing it beside the other.

Opening the bathroom door he leaned along its jam, arms crossed over his chest, one ankle over the other. He watched for a moment as Temp carefully packed items into their travel bags. He could watch him all day.

Though not as tall as John, Face was still a six footer. His long legs had become more lean since they had gone on the run. Without daily access to exercise equipment, both he and BA had lost some of their mass. Temp actually had lost a lot of his muscle. BA was a different story. Even without regular hours in the gym he remained a bulky specimen. It was simply his genetics.

Temp on the other hand, though still muscular, had reverted closer to the condition he had been in as a young man. He was tall, long and somewhat lanky. Seeing him from behind always gave Hannibal a thrill.

"Whoa, look at you." Hannibal was so lost in his thoughts he hadn't consciously noticed Face stand and turn toward him. "Just standing there all naked with that big, beautiful hard on."

Hannibal grinned, he did have an erection just from watching his man across the room. Face was on the move, heading his way. As he closed the distance he began to unbutton his shirt.

"Leave it on," Hannibal ordered with a smile.

Face stopped in his tracks, his fingers still on a button. With a wicked smirk and waggle of the eyebrows he closed the gap. Reaching Hannibal he didn't move in for a kiss as John expected. Instead he took one of Hannibal's hands and began to walk backward. Hannibal's other hand dropped to his side as he followed.

When they reached the bed it was now Face who delivered the order, "On your stomach."

Hannibal's cock twitched upon hearing the dominance in the command. He climbed on the bed, to the center, on his hands and knees. He laid himself down sideways across the bed, elbows out, head resting on the backs of his hands facing away from Temp, legs slightly spread.

"You are so beautiful," Temp's voice came from behind him at the same time he felt the bed dip.

Reaching out to the broad shoulders Temp ran his hand across the expanse. Hannibal quivered lightly at the initial contact. Spreading his fingers Temp moved his hand up John's neck to slide through the soft silver hair making its way to Hannibal's forehead. "I love you, Beau."

John couldn't hear that often enough. The music of the words combined with the careful strokes sent fluttering through his stomach. A quiet hum of enjoyment was experienced more as a vibrating rumble than heard as sound.

He felt Temp stretch out along his side. His clothes brushing along his naked form. He stroked his hand down Hannibal's back then up again. Leaning his entire body over John, Temp stroked his cheek and positioned his mouth just on Hannibal's ear. A tremor moved through him as Face opened his mouth, before pursing his lips together again leaving a gentle kiss on the lobe.

There was another kiss just behind his ear, then along his hairline, then they moved down his neck, one on a shoulder, then down his back along his spine. Face curled as he worked his way down. At the dip in his back Hannibal felt a hand at the inside of his left thigh, urging it out, his knee sliding up. Temp's hand slid between his legs, searching.

Fingers located his sack, sliding skin over the orbs contained inside. Pressing between them they found the root of his erection. With a firm pressure he followed it upward until progress was stopped by the junction of John's penis and his weight pressing into the mattress. Wanting the journey to continue to his glans, Hannibal rolled slightly to lift his abdomen.

The hand went to the back of his hip, pressing down, "Shhhh....You lay still. We'll get there." The heat of breath at the top of his cleft made the surrounding skin feel chilled. Goose flesh rose as Temp ran his hand from one hummock, flat over his cleft, to the other. Hannibal lifted his chin and sighed at the sensation.

As Face passed his hand from one side to the other, soothing across John's ass, he stopped here and there to knead. Nothing forceful, only gentle palpations. He worked the edge of his hand from the heel to the tip of his pinky finger along the crease created by John's buttock folding over his upper thigh.

As Hannibal was lulled by the motions, his breathing became deep and rhythmic. Temp lifted, supporting himself on one elbow before pressing his fingers into John's cleft. He smiled knowing he had invoked the gasp now echoing in the room. He needed to stop for a moment to readjust himself in his jeans. The sights, sounds and feel of his man arousing him.

Having set out the bottle of lube while John was in the shower he spied it now laying on the bed. Reaching over his man's legs he took it now, coating two fingers. Clicking the cap closed he pitched it back where it had been along the pillow edge.

Starting at his perineum he drew a line to John's entrance. After circling the pucker he carefully slid in a finger. John still marveled at how his lover could so gently enter him, never causing a burn. Pressing in and out he removed his finger completely before gliding in again. Slowing, he pulled upward, toward his back, giving a mild tug to his circle of muscle before resuming the glide. Again Hannibal felt no burn from the efforts, only added pressure when a second finger joined the first with an inward press a few moments later.

From so many years of experience Temp only slid the two fingers in to the first knuckles then holding his hand still. John signaled when he was ready by pressing back on Temp's fingers, fully engulfing them. Face took up the motion, twisting as he went until without warning he crooked his fingers, dragging the tips over John's prostate.

Hannibal jerked as the surprise jolt coursed through him. Temp had straightened his body with his head now resting on John's shoulder. Hannibal pressed back onto Temp's fingers again. Temp had a way of cupping John's ass while still sliding those clever fingers in and out. It warmed Hannibal. It gave him a feeling of comfort, especially when a soft kiss was pressed to the back of his neck.

The fingers slid out, not to be returned. John met the situation with a moan. Again he heard in his ear, "Shhhh...." The fingers were joined by the others to clasp John's shoulder giving it a tug, urging him to roll up onto his side, rolling his back into Temp's chest. "That's it. Just like that," was whispered in his ear and the hand took hold of his cock.

Hannibal was aware of Face's clothes and relaxed into the dichotomy of vulnerability and trust they brought out in him. With Temp still clothed it gave the younger man a position of power. Surprisingly, it was a position Hannibal was familiar with. He made no secret of it with Face, and frankly the other two were also well aware, even though Hannibal was their leader, the younger man ruled him.

Lying naked on the bed with his clothed, dominant lover gave Hannibal a sense of peace. It relieved the pressure he lived under. It took away, even if for a short time, the constant demands he placed on himself. The insistent feeling of responsibility for these men. For a time, he didn't have to be the alpha.

Face understood. He gladly accepted the position. He could postpone his own gratification to give this to his man. It was something Hannibal needed and he felt privileged to be the one to provide it for him.

Clasping and stroking Hannibal humbled Face. Of all the people in this world he was the one this man chose. When he put any serious thought to it he always finished by shaking his head. What the hell was a ladies' man such as himself doing in a lifetime romance with this soldier? He accepted long ago it wasn't so much an attraction to men. It was instead a love of John "Hannibal" Smith.

The attraction wasn't only rooted in his kindness and deep love for Face, but also his courage and strength. "On your back," Face's voice commanded him, moving out of the way.

As Hannibal positioned himself as told, Face scoured him with his eyes. His breathing quicken as he took in the nude beside him. Running hands over the body, eventually he landed on the massive cock. His eyes flashed and he climbed on Hannibal. Demanding his mouth, one hand around the back of his skull pulling him in. The other hand pressing hard into the valley of his back. Face began thrusting. He ground his denim covered bulge into John's erection.

John's arms came around, holding tight as they fought each other with tongues and pelvic thrusts. Hannibal clamped onto Temp's arms trying to find leverage. Face was strong, his fingertips digging into John's hair. With his other arm, he circled Hannibal's waist and held tight.

Feeling a split second of respite as Face tried to reposition his grip on Hannibal's midsection, the older man growled and threw Face off of him. Temp could usually give him a fight, but this time Hannibal was able to cursorily take his wrists. Squeezing them firmly in his large hands, Hannibal had reestablished his dominance.

"Take off your clothes," he ordered and Face wasted no time complying.

While Face stripped down fast, Hannibal found the bottle of lube. Coating his fingers, he looked back at Face who was just lying back from throwing his pants on the floor. Hannibal raised one of Face's legs. Positioning himself between his lover's thighs with one hand he held the leg to his shoulder, with the other he forced Temp open.

Pouncing on him as he had, Face told Hannibal he wanted it rough, rough and now. Employing little of the gentleness that had been used on him he worked the tight clutch of muscle open. Taking the lube again he slicked his cock and lined himself up.

Gritting through it, Face welcomed the burn. He tried to hasten the long drop of Hannibal's large cock. His eyes shot open and he writhed. Though even with Face's enthusiasm, Hannibal's cooler head prevailed. Face struggled under him to get their rhythm started, but Hannibal now buried almost to his hilt, had him pinned.

"Fuck me! Fuck me, John." Face's mania sometimes came to the surface before Hannibal knew it was eminent.

"Easy....easy." John petted hair from Temp's forehead. "Relax, Babe. Let me take care of you."

Temp's wild eyed look was calming as quickly as it had come on. He let go of John's biceps and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, burying his face in John's neck. He let out a shuddering sigh.

Hannibal pressed further in then eased out in a fluid motion. Face raised his knees gripping Hannibal's ribs. He thrust hard to meet Hannibal who kept a slow pace as he took Face's mouth in a deep kiss. It wasn't gentle or quiet, but it was under control. Hannibal let him know he would pick up the pace, but he needed confirmation Face had settled.

Face ran his fingers through the hair on the back of Hannibal's head, "I'm okay now," he whispered.

Hannibal smiled down on him and began well and truly thrusting. Pulling back fast and landing hard. The tightness leading to the interior heat drove him. It wasn't long before Face again gripped at his arms and John slowed, understanding Temp was overstimulated.

He leaned down and captured Face's mouth, carefully sucking in his lower lip, before letting it go to follow his jaw to an ear, "Come for me."

Temp nodded and Hannibal lifted off of him to clasp onto his solid cock. It was already wet between them. Temp had been oozing his precum. With fast strokes to the top half of that swollen member it wasn't long before Temp was cumming and cumming hard. The spray made it to John's chin and just the thought of it found him letting go inside his man.

They each were panting. Hannibal now had his hands on the bed, on either side of Face's ribs, elbows locked. Temp's head was thrown back, his hands clenched in the sheets. Hannibal coming to his senses first leaned down to kiss Temp's throat before settling down, slightly to one side so as not to press all of his weight on Face's chest.

 

"I'm sorry I lost it back there."

"How many times do I need to tell you, there is nothing to apologize for."

"That's a problem right there. How many times you have to tell me."

Hannibal drew him in a little snugger.

"John?"

"Hmm?"

"Sometimes it scares me."

"Me too, Babe." Face's head lay on Hannibal's chest as he carded his fingers through the younger man's hair. "Do you feel you're getting worse?"

"Does it look like I am?"

"No. But I'm on the outside looking in."

"I'm tired. Let's talk about it again another time."

Hannibal kissed the top of his head. "Soon."


	5. Chapter 5

It was 5:07 in the evening and Harvey waved Ray back into the car when he saw his driver emerge to open doors. Quickening his pace ahead of Mike he took the younger man by the arm as he passed and reached for the door handle. Opening the door wide he guided a confused Mike to take a seat.

Mike was stiff, reluctant to sit. Harvey _always_ took the curb side of the backseat while Mike rushed past the trunk to enter on the street side. Harvey's deference felt disjointed to him, yet he didn't want to contradict the man either. Now sitting with both feet inside he looked up to Harvey to confirm this was indeed what the man wanted.

Harvey didn't look in his eyes and only said, "Watch your coat hem, Mike."

Mike tugged out of the way the bit of his overcoat laying over the threshold as Harvey swung the door closed. He settled into the soft leather seat as Harvey made his way behind the vehicle and waited for an opening in the traffic where he could open the other back door and climb in.

"Good evening, gentlemen," Ray greeted from the front seat.

"Hi, Ray," Mike returned.

"Good evening, Ray. We're going to stop by Mike's place to pick up a change of clothes before heading home." Harvey, like Mike, was buckling his belt.

"What are you in the mood for tonight?" Ray asked looking at Harvey in the rear view.

"Lady Day?"

"You got it, Boss."

The honest and soulful diction of Billie Holliday drifted through the car as Ray eased them into the rush hour traffic.

 

"I'll hurry," Mike threw over his shoulder as he scurried from the car outside his apartment building.

"We're in no rush," Harvey replied somewhat absently as he scrolled through his phone.

Mike returned carrying a duffel slung over one shoulder and a garment bag hooked on his fingers over the other. Ray was standing on the sidewalk and popped the trunk when he saw Mike emerge from the doorway. "Let me take that for you." He relieved Mike of the bag and tucked it in the corner of the trunk created by the wheel well. Mike laid his garment bag out flat.

As he again took his spot in the back Harvey looked to him with a subtle grin, "All set?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Harvey."

"Change of plans, Ray," Harvey announced.

Ray's eyes lifted to the rear view. Mike's head turned sideways a question in his eyes. Harvey just flashed him a light smile and nonchalantly laid his hand over Mike's on the seat. After instructing Ray to take them to Central Park West, between 66th and 67th, he briefly squeezed Mike's hand before returning it to the seat beside himself.

"We're going to the park?" Mike questioned.

"Dinner at Tavern On The Green. ... Oh. Almost forgot." He fished his phone back out of his coat pocket. "Do you prefer the bar or the atrium?"

"I don't know. I've never been there."

Harvey was tapping a contact on his phone, "Hello, Daniel?"  
......

Setting his elbow on the door armrest he spoke, "I'm sorry, Joe. It's Harvey. I was just talking to your better half a few minutes ago."  
......

"I'm good thank you. And you?"  
.......

"Well I can see for myself pretty soon here."  
.......

"Coming in for an early dinner."  
........

"Yes."  
......

"No. That's actually why I'm calling."  
.......

"Do you have a window table in the Central Park Room?"  
........

"For two."  
........

"Shall I tell him you said that?"  
.........

After another brief pause Harvey was laughing as he looked out his window. Without thought he again squeezed over the top of Mike's hand before switching his iPhone back to the right ear and that hand. "....Hoping it won't be as long as half an hour, but we seem to be a little tied up in traffic."  
........

"Please do. Okay, we'll see you soon," Harvey concluded.

"You know the management, huh?" asked Mike

"I know the proprietors, Joe and Daniel."

Fifteen minutes later Ray had carefully battled his way through traffic. Throwing on the flashers he pulled to the curb to a chorus of angry car horns from behind.

"What about my clothes?" Mike was asking as Harvey hustled him out the door.

"Shall I leave them with your doorman?"

"Yes. Thank you, Ray. Have a good night."

"Enjoy dinner," Ray shouted to the closing door.

Harvey slapped the roof of the car twice before briefly placing a hand on Mike's lower back, guiding him in the direction of West 67th. His phone let loose with an operatic ringtone.

"Jessica. What can I do for you?"  
.......

"No. We're good. This Hannibal character will be in the office in the morning..."

They carried on the conversation until he and Mike had arrived at the sidewalk awning extending from the entrance to the old structure. "I gotta go, Jessica."  
......

"No. He's with me." That hand again found its place on the younger man's back to usher him toward the door. They both stopped under the awning a couple of yards from the two doors. Mike had been looking at the pavers, but glanced up in time to see Harvey roll his eyes as he repeated, "Gotta go, Jessica." He tapped the screen and dropped the phone in his pocket.

Harvey moved ahead toward the door. Mike was again peering down at the paver patterns when he noticed Harvey had stopped. He halted too and looked up to see what had preempted their progress.

Harvey was standing aside holding the door for Mike. His arm was extended to once more direct him. Though he tried to remain expressionless, Harvey could see he had confounded his protégé. The flash of confusion he saw in Mike's face made him smile.

Stepping past the man who was behaving so uncharacteristically, Mike saw a smile that seldom appeared in his presence unless it included ribbing or a sardonic remark. The crinkles along his eyes deepened, his cheeks pressed his lower lashes upward. It was sincere. It was good natured. It was contagious and Mike found himself following suit.

Almost immediately upon passing the threshold they were accosted by a pampering staff. "May I take your coat Mr. Specter?" And to Mike, "May I assist you with your coat, Sir?"

Though no longer startled by it, Mike still hadn't become comfortable with the fawning which could ensue when accompanying Harvey. He took his cues from his mentor and emptied his overcoat pocket of keys and cell phone before allowing a pretty young woman to help him shrug it from his shoulders.

"This way, Mr. Specter." They followed the host to a dining room with a glassed bumpout overlooking a patio. Of course they were seated at a four top preset with a service for two along the glass with a "Reserved" card perched on it. Taking their seats, Harvey choosing to sit beside Mike rather than across, they were handed their menus, and their drink orders were taken.

After having started with roasted figs and wedge salad they were now settling in on their entrees: roasted cauliflower for Harvey and rich bouillabaisse for Mike.

Having finally worked up the nerve Mike asked, "So what's up, Harvey?"

"With what?"

"With you."

Harvey only looked at him, his trademark smirk pasted on. When nothing more was forthcoming from the young man Harvey cocked an eyebrow in question.

"I don't know." Mike was fumbling. "You just seem so accommodating."

"You have a problem with accommodating?" Harvey toyed with him.

"Well no, but...."

Harvey was enjoying himself yet knew the kid was fragile and didn't push it further. "Mike, several years ago, actually right after you started, Jessica wanted me to fire you. I couldn't do it."

"You told her if I go, you go," Mike added still amazed Harvey would put himself on the line like that. Put himself on the line like that for him. Yet what did that have to do with this evening?

"Yep, but not until after I told you how proud of you I was. I haven't said that enough. And I haven't thanked you enough for making me a better attorney. And I haven't thanked you enough for making me a better man."

"Have I entered an AU? Can I believe what my ears are hearing? Harvey, you sound like you care."

Harvey chuckled. "Grab hold of the table, Rookie. I do care. But tonight? Tonight is a thank you for the hard work you put into Briscoe. Your performance was years beyond your junior partner title. It was a long, hard struggle and you should be getting a week off to recuperate. Instead, in the morning, I'm having you dive in head first into this A-Team mess."

"Well I don't see you taking a week off either," Mike retorted.

Harvey set down his flatware, resting his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers in front of him. "I don't work as hard as you do."

"That's bullshit."

"No it's not. I don't put in half the effort you do."

"So you're saying I'm half the man you are?" Mike was starting to wonder if he should be insulted.

"That's not what I mean at all." He picked up his knife and fork, taking another bite from his plate, giving himself a little time to think of the exact words he wanted to use.

Mike was close to white knuckling his spoon.

First wiping his mouth, Harvey took a sip of water. " _You_ care. A lot. I've told you it's a detriment. But you insist on being the thoughtful person you are. You refuse to tamp any of it down. One of the reasons I tell you to rein it in is because caring is exhausting. All that emotion uses up energy.

"Besides, that incredible brain of yours works overtime. I'm a better lawyer because that incredible brain of yours works so hard at calculating, assimilating and mating obscure bits of information into a cohesive depiction of events.

"I may know how to package the information; how to argue it from the best angle. But that doesn't take much effort on my part. _My_ brain is wired for that. _And_ I've had twenty years of experience compared to your what? Little over five?" He took another bite then a sip of wine. "Your hard work makes my life easier."

Mike was close to the wide eyed, mouth hung open state he had been in those few years earlier when he had walked out of Harvey's office in a daze. Had he just heard Harvey right? Had Harvey actually said he _cares_? "Did you really just say you cared?"

Harvey's reply was an honest, open smile.

Mike needed a little wine. It was his turn to pull his thoughts together. Unfortunately, that brain Harvey seemed enamored with was now firing on all cylinders. As it often does when Mike hears unexpected information it maddeningly becomes next to impossible to pick out one thought. Ofttimes he digs in and grasps a thought at random as he was doing now. "Did you say I made you a better man?"

"I did." Harvey sipped from his water glass while Mike just stared. Harvey relented, "With your help I've been successful with conundrums I wouldn't have considered tackling prior to having you by my side. So thank you."

Mike was embarrassed. He was a bit overcome and needed to deflect. "That's all? I was beginning to wonder if I was on a date."

"Would that have been so bad? After all, my company is quite sought after from dinner to being an impressive plus one." Harvey was smirking. No one could pull off smirking like Harvey.

Mike burst out laughing. It was a laugh Harvey was realizing he had missed. It hadn't made an appearance since Rachel had given way to her father's pressure and dumped Mike. Harvey had to join in with an ever so Harvey chuckle verging on a giggle.

Getting himself back together Mike asked the question begging to be asked, "You're bragging about your desirability?"

"It's not bragging if it's true." Harvey now fully joined in on Mike's guffaws focused on those crystal blue eyes.

Mike returned the gaze as it morphed into an exam. The younger man settled in, trying to decipher what Harvey was so intent on. But Harvey's brown eyes were giving nothing away and Mike had to look off when it occurred to him what they must look like peering into each other's eyes. When he glanced up again Harvey was still watching him and gave him a quick grin before looking away himself.

"Dessert?"

"No way. I couldn't eat any more."

"Pick out something we can take home. I'll be right back." Harvey dropped his napkin next to his plate and exited the table.

Upon his return Mike inquired, "How's that prostate holding up?"

"Smart ass. One day you'll be in the position to know how my prostate feels firsthand." Corners of his mouth curled, there was a twinkle about the man.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make everything sound like a come-on?"

"Maybe it's because he doesn't know how to control himself in the presence of a handsome young man," a third voice chimed in.

Harvey was standing and giving the man beside their table a hug. "It's good to see you, Joe."

"You look great as always, Harvey. Who is this handsome young thing you brought with you tonight?"

"Joe, Mike," he introduced, "This is my wunderkind former associate, now Junior partner." To Mike, "Joe and his partner Daniel refurbished and reopened this landmark."

"How was your dinner?"

"First rate as always," Harvey supplied. Mike added in, "We're just waiting on a slice of carrot cake to take with."

"Interesting. To whom's home will it be traveling?"

"Mine," offered Harvey. "We're headed back to my place."

The restauranteur spoke to Mike, "In that case, perhaps you'd like to have some whipped cream added to the container."

Mike was tongue tied.

"Mike's door doesn't swing that way, Joe."

"Pity." He hummed lightly while assessing Mike's blush. "So pleased you enjoyed your meal. Will I have the pleasure of seeing the two of you again in the near future?"

"I think that can be arranged," said Harvey as he counted out a tip.

"Your package, Sir." Their waiter placed a white bag in front of Mike who thanked him as he stood.

"Sure you don't want a little whipped cream added?" teased Joe.

"Behave yourself," laughed Harvey.

"Good to see you, Harvey. And Mike? It was a pleasure meeting you. You are gracious and a good sport."

Mike extended a hand. "It was great meeting you too, Joe." As they shook he surprised both Joe and Harvey with, "I wouldn't mind taking you up on that whip cream offer. Think about it, Harvey." The two men looked at the deadpan face somewhat stunned until the young man's lips started quivering. They joined in when Mike could no longer hold his laughter.

 

Outside the restaurant Harvey's hand was on Mike's lower back once again guiding him. This time toward 67th to flag down a cab. Admittedly, he was enjoying what was now becoming a familiar touch.

Inside the cab after giving Harvey's address they settled into a comfortable conversation. Mike commented on Jim's suggestive sense of humor. "Is he always like that?"

"No. Joe is an excellent judge of character. He would never say anything off color to a prim lady or straight-laced gentleman. And he always seems to know how far he can take a joke without offending. Though I must say, he seemed a bit smitten with you." Harvey nudged him with an elbow.

"And what happened to your duck 'n dive sensors? Misfiring or what?"

Harvey's smirk was firmly in place, "What? You think I couldn't turn a few male heads? You don't know me as well as I thought you did."

"Yeah, well, I suspect you don't know me as well as you think you did either."

"Look at you. All Mr. Mysterious." Harvey was grinning, his eyes skimming from Mike's eyes to his mouth.

When Mike smiled back his chest took a little dip. He felt true affection for this man who had taken him in and changed his life. Though they had been joking Mike couldn't help but have a flash of the two of them together.

He of course knew it was a silly pipe dream. Harvey was as straight as they come. He, however, wasn't a total stranger to the affections of men. He and his now ex-friend/partner-in-crime had experimented that high school summer between junior and senior years. He had also had a regrettably short-lived romance with a fellow freshman that first semester of college. But since then, not actually by design more by circumstance, he had been exclusively with women.

Harvey paid the cab fair and breezed past Mike on the sidewalk on the way into his building. The doorman rose when he saw the two men. "Good evening Mr. Specter and it's Mr. Ross? Correct?"

Mike smiled, "Yes that's right."

"I have bags your driver dropped off."

Mike moved up to take his items. Harvey extended a hand pointing at the garment bag, "I'll take that." Sam passed the bag to Harvey and the duffle to Mike. "Thanks, Sam."

They rode up in Harvey's express elevator. Disembarking, Harvey led the way to the guest room, opening the door to the closet to hang the bag. Mike was following close behind and dropped the duffel on the bed.

"Make yourself at home. Let me know if you need to borrow anything." He was slipping his overcoat off as he made his way out of the room.

"Thanks, Harvey."

Unpacking he heard a distant flow of water. Harvey was probably taking a shower. He took off his tie and loosened the top two buttons of his shirt. Gathering his sweatpants, crew socks and a grey T emblazoned with a portrait of the Simpson family he sat on the edge of the bed waiting for Harvey to finish showering. Killing the water pressure while your host showers is best to be avoided.

Slipping off his shoes he padded to the hall bath when he heard the water shut off and knew it was safe to take a shower himself. After dropping off his work clothes in the bedroom he found Harvey in the kitchen ready to reach into the fridge. "What can I get for you? I have white or red, several beers, ginger ale or water."

"Beer is good. You pick."

He was handed a bottle as Harvey passed by behind him heading to the living area carrying one of his own.

"It's only seven forty-five. It's early." Harvey was moving a section of the built-in shelves to reveal his TV tucked behind.

He was wearing a light pair of lounge pants and a Henley. Barefoot and with his hair loose and moving, it occurred to Mike not many people are allowed to see Harvey in this relaxed state. It wasn't the first time seeing him like this, having spent the night previously after working cases on Harvey's coffee or dining table many a night.

Harvey had great shoulders. His span wasn't artfully created via strategic padding within his suits. No, he was just naturally well proportioned. The V of his back all but pointed at that great ass. Perfect, at least in Mike's humble estimation. And Mike was taking it all in from behind while Harvey fiddled with the various remotes and tuned in the most recent episode of The Walking Dead.

"Are you up to date on these?" Harvey asked as he hit play then pause and turned around.

Mike hadn't heard him. He was too busy taking in the shape of one Harvey Specter. He almost physically had to shake his head. What the fuck was that? Was he so off balance from the breakup he was looking at Harvey, of all people, for a rebound?

"Mike?"

"I'm sorry. What?"

Harvey held a remote in each hand, "You up for this?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good," he laughed off, a little embarrassed.

Harvey joined him, sitting sideways at the opposite end of the sofa. Stuffing throw pillows behind his back he nestled into the corner. Knees up, he worked his toes between the cushions. Soon after, Mike brought his legs up too, one knee out in a lotus, the other in front of him, chin beside his knee.

They each had a beer and an empty as they reached the halfway point of the second episode. Harvey paused the recording and asked, "Let's say you were out killing zombies. Trial and error tells you you need to, in some way, destroy the brain. Right?"

"Riiiight?"

"You also know from experience zombie brains fly everywhere like a popped tick."

"Okay???"

"Why on Earth wouldn't you keep your mouth closed while killing the things?"

It was true. The characters on the show killed walkers with abandon, and always with their mouths wide open. Mike guffawed so hard he snorted.

Harvey dropped his chin, smiling indulgently. "It's good to see you smiling, Rookie. Ready for some carrot cake?"

Mike was resting his cheek on his knee, smiling. "Sure."

Harvey swung his legs around landing his feet on the floor. In the kitchen he divided the cake in two, placing each piece on a plate. Grabbing two bottles of water out of the fridge and forks from a drawer, he balanced a plate on his forearm and was back in front of his guest in no time.

Mike took the precariously balanced plate and a bottle. He studied the carrot created from orange cream cheese frosting. Harvey took his place, "Something wrong?"

"Got any whip cream?"

"Had I known..." Harvey was wearing his trademark smirk. Mike was laughing.

Finishing their plates and coming to the end of the episode, Mike held out his hand to take Harvey's dish along with his own back to the kitchen. Their hands brushed with the transfer. Harvey reached for his wrist.

"Your hand's freezing."

"Yeah. It's a little cold in here."

As Mike headed for the kitchen, Harvey headed down the hallway to his bedroom. Upon his return, Mike had taken his place again on the sofa. Harvey dropped a thick sweatshirt and polar fleece socks over the younger man's shoulder to land in his lap.

"Thanks." He had the sweatshirt over his head in no time and worked on adding the socks while Harvey queued up the next episode.

Harvey was again sitting sideways on the sofa, knees up, toes tucked. Mike had both feet pulled up in front of him, arms wrapped around his legs. Drama and mayhem played out on the screen.

Harvey felt a pressure along his legs that increased as the moments ticked by. He had to smile to himself to see his young guest appeared to be sound asleep leaning against his legs.

He stopped the recording. The room went quiet. The silence only broken by Mike's deep and steady breathing. Harvey took in as much of the sight as he could beyond his legs. It was good to see not only that he was sleeping, but that he was comfortable enough to doze off where he sat.

The ten o'clock hour had rolled over not long before. Harvey contemplated the young man and their journey to this point. They had been together and joined by this charade for over five years now. He had watched Mike grow from a pot smoking, smart ass kid to a respectable, smart ass man.

This situation couldn't go on indefinitely. Something was bound to give and where would that leave them? Mike loved the law. He enjoyed the challenge of it as well as Harvey did himself.

The older man chastised himself for his arrogance. He had found the kid, albeit quite by accident, and waved him under other's noses. His eidetic memory for the written word pulling rabbit after rabbit out of the proverbial hat, saving the day.

He had treated it like a game. Something to amuse himself while consistently, if not belligerently, claiming his indifference for the young man. Harvey didn't care. Caring was a weakness that could bring you down. It could sabotage your best efforts. He had tried to stubbornly hold onto that edict. But this young man, who was currently nuzzling his cheek into the space between Harvey's calves, had broken through the carefully constructed barriers.

Only the indomitable Donna had been able to completely break through before now. Though it maybe more accurate to say she had stepped in before the walls were built. His Admin and years-long friend had come with him from the DA's office. A bit of a package deal.

The therapist he had been seeing had made it through the defenses as well, at least partially. He had begun his sessions with her as a result of his panic attacks. His visits to her had fallen by the wayside though. He knew he should continue seeing her, but the panic attacks had gone and he let the sessions peter out. Something that ate at him was his knowledge she was his match, if in a different field. He was very good at it, and had been teaching Mike, but she was a true master at pressing until it hurts.

He didn't like to hurt. Fully aware relief would be the result of the difficult therapy, he still couldn't bring himself to be subjected to more than what they had already explored. And she was getting too close to Mike. She was getting too close to their secret and he couldn't let that happen. He had taken it upon himself to be Mike's protector.

He also couldn't bring himself to let her in on his own secret about his feelings for the young junior partner. He wouldn't consciously admit to himself she was smart enough and cognitive enough to have already figured it out. While Mike had been with Rachel, there was no place for Harvey in his heart as anything other than a doting older brother. He had no delusions, despite Mike's ribbing tonight, that state of affairs wouldn't change.

Harvey leaned forward and rubbed Mike's shoulder, "Hey, junior. How about you get to bed?"

It didn't even occur to him he had been cuddling Harvey's legs. "Okay," he mumbled. "G 'night Harvey."


	6. Chapter 6

In the morning they showered, dressed and finished packing. Face would be joining Murdock and BA in their safe house while John met with this new attorney, name of Specter. Face had arranged a separate hideaway for Hannibal.

Their CO had insisted it only be himself to make the initial contacts with the attorney. He feared circumstances that would find them all captured. Face wasn't happy about it in the least and had complained bitterly and cajoled endlessly. He was miserable about the notion of being separated from Hannibal for a minimum of a week and what could turn out to be months.

They were both well aware Face's manic episode the evening before was triggered by the stress of their impending separation. It had, however, driven home how important this move was to them. How important it was for everyone's wellbeing. Face had finally acquiesced when it came to him how guilty Hannibal felt about leaving him.

Late the night before as Hannibal held his partner, pulling the younger man's back snugly into his chest, they talked. They went over what it would mean to be free of this ball and chain that bound the four of them together and weighted them all down. It was easier to talk in the dark. It was easier to express fears.

Temp could close himself off so effectively no one, not even Hannibal could read him. But in the quiet of the night, without the need for eyes to meet, Face had opened to him. Had told him sometimes he feels such tightness inside of himself and he doesn't know how to relieve it. Sometimes it seems he explodes from the almost physical pressure he experiences. It seems the release can cause him to blank out. Though the other two are able to eventually reach him, it's Hannibal to whom he most readily responds.

Hannibal asked again if he felt the situation was getting worse. He responded that in a way it was, in another it wasn't. Face felt the occurrences weren't as frequent, but were more severe. He felt like they now, more often than not, overtook him without warning. Whereas previously he could feel them coming on and prepare himself. Now it frightens him when he suddenly realizes he's coming out of a fog he had no knowledge of entering.

Hannibal asked if they should find a new doctor for him while they were in New York. Temp felt their efforts should be on the task at hand. Unlike Hannibal, he didn't hope the problem was purely stress related, he was absolutely sure of it.

 

Both slept well and were on their way out the door. It had been arranged to meet BA and Murdock for breakfast. They too were going to be separated from the boss. Obviously his absence wouldn't weigh as heavily on them, yet they still wanted to send him on his way with a full stomach obtained in good company.

After breakfast BA shook the boss' hand and Murdock gave him a hug. Hannibal took Face by the arm, pulling him into a walkway between buildings. Pressing the younger man's back to the brick of the building he kissed him sweetly as he carded fingers through his hair.

Leaning his forehead to Face's, Hannibal admonished, "Take good care of them."

Temp smiled and nodded in return.

The three watched for a moment as the cab carrying Hannibal became lost in a sea of cabs and other traffic. Murdock threw an arm around Face's shoulder. "Come on, Facey. Think of it as an adventure. The three of us are going to have fun. It'll be like camping out."

"Really fool?" asked BA. "I can only think of two reasons to camp out in New York City: ticket sales and vagrancy."

Murdock looked hurt as he said, "I suppose you never had an imagination as a kid either."

"I grew up in a lousy hood on the South side of Chicago. Not much time for imagination. Too busy trying not to get killed."

"Well if you'd just let yourself go and explore the wonders you can find in your own mind you could break free. Allow yourself to skip down the sidewalk. I do it all the time."

"There is no way I'm skippin' anywhere. Are you out of your mind?"

"So they say." Murdock winked at Face before shoving his hands in his pockets and began whistling Zipiddy Do Dah.

Hannibal had made it clear, in his absence, Face was in charge. Temp now thought it was a good thing. He wouldn't have time to think of anything else while he was busy wrangling these two.

 

"You ready to go, Mike?"

Mike had returned to the guest room after he and Harvey had coffee. Harvey suppressed a smile seeing the freshly shaved, well groomed man shrugging an overcoat on walking down his hallway. He couldn't shake the thought of having this be a daily occurrence.

"I'm ready." Mike corrected the fold of his coat collar, straightened his tie then ran a hand along the side of his head, checking his hair was flat. "What is it?"

"What's what?"

"Why are you looking at me like that? Something out of place?"

"No. No, you look...." Harvey cut himself off.

"What?"

"You look rested. Let's go. Ray's waiting." Harvey took the gloves from the kitchen counter and fished around his wallet to be sure he had his keycard.

Mike was about to question him, but Harvey had spun and was headed down the hall. The junior partner felt he was always following the named partner. Felt he was somehow being granted an audience with the man. When Harvey stepped aside to hold the door for him, it struck Mike how different things had been the last couple of days.

He could sense Harvey was observing him. It made him uneasy in a way he seldom felt around the other man. He knew he hadn't been himself since Rachel had moved out. He knew he acted as though he had been walking on eggshells around the firm, especially around the vicinity of the woman's office. He just wasn't sure if that was factoring into how Harvey had been relating to him.

At first he had been thankful Harvey had asked him to complete Briscoe in his office. He had a sense of being grounded knowing his mentor was nearby. But over the last couple of days Harvey seemed different and he couldn't put his finger on if it was indeed Harvey who was different or if it was how Mike was interpreting him.

When they exited the building Mike saw Ray standing at the car. Harvey lifted his chin in an upward nod as he stepped through the door. One more time, but only briefly, Harvey's hand went to Mike's lower back. He was starting to feel as though the older man was his own personal GPS. There to guide him in the right direction.

It was definitely Harvey who was different. Different, but not in a bad way. Before they made it to the car he remembered. "I didn't grab my bags."

The hand was back. It pointed him toward the trunk, signaling him to go around the back of the car and enter on the street side. "Get in, Junior. We'll worry about it later."

Ray had the back curbside door open for Harvey. In one hand he held a coffee tray. "Your usual, Harvey," he said after the man had settled in his usual spot.

"Thank you."

Ray leaned down to address Mike on the other side of the back seat, "I don't know how you take yours. There's half and half in one cup, vanilla in another and hazelnut in the third."

Harvey had removed his cup from the tray before handing it over to Mike. "Thanks Ray," he said taking the tray, fumbling a bit to keep the various packets of sweeteners that were also included from falling. Ray closed the door and took the wheel. He was soon rolling the two men outside the office.

"Unless something comes up I don't expect to need you until seven or eight," Harvey informed through the partition.

"Harvey, one of the kids has a game tonight. I really don't want to miss it." Ray held his breath hoping Harvey would understand.

"That's fine. We'll get a cab back tonight. See you in the morning."

"Thanks Harvey."

Mike really wanted to ask about "we" getting a cab, but instead thanked Ray and stepped out of the car. Harvey was already halfway to the entrance as Mike hurried to catch up. After passing through the door held open for him, minus the guiding hand, the younger man looked back at Harvey. His expression had changed. It was again hard with a trace of determination. The Harvey he had just spent the past seventeen hours with was gone. He had been replaced with the intractable, no nonsense Harvey. Let the day begin.

Just as the elevators closed Mike tried to get a hand between to stop them, but failed.

"What are you doing?" It was the first of what always turns out to be many exasperations in Harvey's day.

"I forgot to stop at the cart for Donna's coffee."

"She'll survive." They travelled upward in silence. Stepping out of the car, Harvey threw over his shoulder, "Come to my office."

"Okay. I'll be right there. Just need to get rid of my coat." Mike was already unbuttoning.

"Hang it with mine," Harvey barked. Mike again found himself trotting to catch up. "Donna, aside from Smith am I cleared for the day?"

"Already taken care of." The redhead's eyes moved to the junior partner. She was observing Mike's hand was carrying one coffee from which he had just taken a sip before looking sheepish under her scrutiny.

"Leave him alone, Donna. It was my fault. I wouldn't let him go to the cart." He was in his office shrugging off his overcoat. "The two of us have a big day." Mike also took off his coat hanging it along with Harvey's.

Harvey was standing behind his desk looking through the notes left there for him. Mike went to the conference table, picking up the three manilla folders that he thought would pertain to this morning's meeting. Donna watched out of the corner of her eye as the two began their day. She proceeded putting together a theory on why Harvey was wearing the tie with the deep royal blue stripe.

The tie meant only one thing. His curiosity had been aroused by his previous night's companion. He wore it without fail the morning after an enjoyable evening that hadn't ended between the sheets. She unconsciously raised one eyebrow as it occurred to her the two men had left together, and early, the evening before. And now they were arriving together this morning. Donna pondered the evidence as she filled in Harvey's tentative schedule for the coming two weeks, then went to the executive kitchen to prepare her own skim milk latte with whipped cream and sugar.

Harvey and Mike spent the first hour of the day trying to come up with the possible answers to all the questions they would be asking Smith. One of Harvey's prescripts was to not ask a question to which you didn't already know the answer. Unfortunately, there were far too many in this situation, but the partners wouldn't let that status remain for long.

They hadn't noticed when Donna left her desk to greet the tall, broad shouldered man at the elevator bay. After seating him in a conference room and providing him with coffee, she leaned into Harvey's office to let them know their appointment had arrived. They gathered their files and made their way to conference room C.

Mike felt it immediately, the current in the room. This man was dangerous. Of all the scumbag sleazes he and Harvey have contended with, Mike never before felt from them the certain knowledge they could seriously hurt him, could physically take him out. The contrast between their usual client and this man was the difference between a hissing housecat and the calculated cunning and physical brawn of a grizzly.

The named partner extended his hand, "Harvey Specter."

"Hannibal Smith."

Harvey introduced Mike who found he was this close to having to use his hand to help shut his mouth. _Hannibal_. Jeezus, the name said it all - fearless, strong, intelligent, strategic, a planner, a soldier, a man's man. But it was more than that. Just the man's presence, no doubt, made any male within a five mile radius feel decidedly inadequate. It seemed for a split second he would never finish growing to his full height as he stood from his chair to shake hands. Many inches over six foot, the man dominated the room. Both Mike and Harvey were six foot, or within a breath of it, but Mike was feeling decidedly small.

The former colonel had been on the run with his team of soldiers. And cream of the crop soldiers, these were US Army Rangers. A powerhouse mechanic, presumably built of concrete and rebar; a pilot, and not just any pilot, a pilot who could fly virtually any aircraft, and had at one point been a member of the Thunderbirds; and a sniper, an honest to god sniper. Hannibal himself was a demolitions expert.

They discussed what had brought him to the firm. Asking him to retell their story. Hannibal went back over the events of 2010. He talked about the U.S. currency plates in the hands of the insurgents, explaining how the plates would no doubt be used. How the U.S. dollar was gold in the war torn country.

He told them of their black op, a covert and classified mission to capture the plates and the explosion that had killed their CO, General Russ Morrison. A man who had also been a close and trusted friend of Hannibal's. His story continued to include a man by the name of Lynch. An alias, Hannibal explained, used by many a CIA operative. He talked about Pike, an aggressive and violent leader of a private security unit, Black Forest.

After succeeding with their mission an explosion killed General Morrison and they were charged with theft of the plates and Russ' murder. After breaking out of prison they, through an admittedly convoluted plan, proved Pike and Lynch were behind the theft of the plates and that Russ Morrison had been in on the deal and hadn't died in the explosion. Although, Morrison had actually been subsequently killed none the less.

Hannibal spoke of the difficulty he had in dealing with the knowledge of not only having a close friend being involved in the whole mess, but had left him and his boys swinging in the wind to take the blame.

"I could always trust and count on Russ, until I couldn't anymore. His betrayal shook us, shook us all. Shook us so badly my Lieutenant came right out and asked if I could ever betray them like that. Broke my heart he would ever dream that, much less ask. But all three of them looked to me wanting to know the answer. I told them 'never'. I hope I was wise enough to believe they just needed to hear me say it. I may tell myself that, but I've spent these intervening years doing as best I could living up to it.

"So there we were at the L.A. docks. The plates were out of the wrong hands. Lynch, who turned out to be one CIA Agent Vance Burress, was arrested and carted off by another CIA Agent Lynch. Pike had been killed, or so we thought, but that's another story. We looked like friggin' heroes until the cuffs were put back on us. We were being taken back into custody for breaking out of prison.

"As you know, we escaped again. I made contact with the DOJ in regards to reduced or commuted sentences, time served, the fact we were incarcerated for crimes we didn't commit. Looked like we had a deal too when suddenly the entire thing shut down. There would be no further negotiations. We were to surrender and serve hefty sentences for the prison breaks with willful destruction of property added on. End of story.

"My boys have already been through too much. I've done my best to lead them and protect them. But honestly gentlemen, I'm tired. I'm tired and my boys deserve a better life than the one they've been leading."

"So what happened to the plates?" Harvey asked.

"Confiscated, considered recovered by DCIS," replied Hannibal.

"Are you sure they actually were?" asked Mike.

Hannibal had never considered anything else, "No. But I have no reason to think otherwise. Is that information available via FOIA?"

Harvey shifted his eyes to Mike. "I'll look into it," the junior partner stated.

"So... John? ...." Mike stumbled.

"Call me Hannibal. Only one person calls me John." Hannibal gave the young man a smile.

"So Hannibal, are you that good?" Mike quickly added, "Don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to offend you. But how have you managed to not only stay free, but in such a high profile way?"

"That's something I can't explain." Hannibal rubbed his face. He told the story of the diamond smuggler, how they were covertly hired by the CIA. The agency had been tracking a smuggler who had managed to elude all previous attempts at identification and capture. The agency had set up fake jewelers and had lured the team out in order to use them to catch the smuggler. "The thing is, it was so perfectly orchestrated none of our meticulous vetting turned up anything out of line for us. They contacted us. We vetted them. If things hadn't gone so terribly wrong with the job itself and whom the smuggler turned out to be in the end, we never would have suspected whom we had been hired by."

"Why haven't they used the same method to bring you in?" Mike was a little stumped.

"Let me know when you have it figured out." Hannibal stood and stretched. The act made him look even larger and more impressive.

Harvey wants to know as well. This wasn't adding up. He felt something was being left out, but at the same time didn't get the impression Hannibal was holding back.

The two lawyers were taking in the details of the man. Harvey had tuned into the deep timbered, short, no nonsense responses. Mike heard the soft spoken clarifications. Privately and silently, they were both taken by the man.

Hannibal had been observing them as well. Specter prided himself in being able to read people. He was well known for it and good at it too, maybe even as good as Hannibal.

Harvey had a hardness to him. He wore a mask. Hannibal wondered what lay behind it. He was, however, given a hint. Not having said much through this initial meeting, it appeared he was giving the younger man the reins, yet remaining available for backup. He noted when his eyes shifted to Mike there was a softening. It was barely perceivable, but there none the less. He didn't have to wonder if it was the same when he himself looked on Face.

Their meeting went on into the early afternoon. They were just about to break when one of the receptionists arrived with a lunch of sandwiches and sides stacked amongst plates, flatware and napkins on a large tray. Donna, as usual was on top of things having placed the order.

"May I get you gentlemen beverages?" the young woman questioned.

During lunch it became apparent the three men were drawn to and appreciated one another. Hannibal questioned them about themselves. He was amused by Harvey's arrogance, yet couldn't deny it wasn't misplaced. He was an intelligent man. Had things been different, Hannibal would have been proud to have him as a member of his team.

He was impressed as well with the younger attorney. He was obviously quite astute and clever himself. Yet he was softer. There on his sleeve one could see his heart.

When they finished eating Mike gathered his notes and a file before excusing himself. "I'm heading to the library, have some research to do." The firm had an extensive law library. Extending his hand across the table, Mike shook Hannibal's saying, "It was great meeting you, Hannibal. Will probably be talking to you tomorrow."

"It was my pleasure meeting you, Mike. I feel very comfortable in your hands." The man's voice had a rolling quality to it. With a deep timbre it was charming and calming. Yet Mike knew it would only take a slight change in inflection for it to slip into menacing.

Harvey didn't look up from his legal pad, "I'll be back in my office within the hour."

Hannibal pulled out his phone, sending a text to Face, arranging for a time they could talk in the evening. As he finished he looked up to see Harvey reviewing his notes and adding annotations.

"I like your second," Hannibal ventured.

"My second?" Harvey wasn't following him.

"Yes, your Lieutenant, your, what did you call him? Your associate, Mike."

"Yeah, he can be useful. Did I call him my associate? He's my former associate. He's now a junior partner with the firm."

"He appears to be far more than 'useful'. I suspect you don't let on how much you care for him."

"To do my job well I can't care."

"To do my job well I have to care. And I do care. I care deeply for my men. It's why I'm here having you do your job."

Harvey studied him for a moment. Crinkling his eyes he huffed a light laugh.

Hannibal continued, "I would think you'd give him more credit." He weighed the subject for a few seconds before adding, "I sense he has considerably more worth to you than just being useful. And besides appearing to be more than competent, he's seems sweet natured. Like my Lieutenant."

"And your second is?"

"Face."

"Face?" Looking at his file. "Aside from yourself I see a Baracus, Murdock and Peck. That a nickname?"

"Face is Peck. Templeton Peck. Face is a call name. A moniker."

"Like Hannibal."

"Yes. Like Hannibal."

"And the others?" Harvey was beginning to enjoy this man's company.

"Murdock is H. M. for Howling Mad, but we call him Murdock. Well, except Face calls him Aichem sometimes. Baracus is BA for Bad Attitude. He generally goes by BA. He's also known by Bosco and his mother, Mama B, calls him Scooter; although, I would advise you not to use that." He eyed Harvey. "You seem to be in good shape, but he's called BA for very sound reasons."

After a few more inquiries and clarifications Harvey saw Hannibal to the elevators. "I'll be calling you in the morning. I'd like to arrange a meeting with the rest of your team."

"We've only just started. I'm not pulling them out into public and putting them in jeopardy until it is wholly necessary. But you'll eventually meet them." Stepping into the elevator he added, "I look forward to hearing from you tomorrow."


	7. Chapter 7

Randall and McCready met at Long Bridge Park, just south of the Pentagon.

"We'll no doubt be receiving interrogatories from this New York law firm," said Randall, U.S. Deputy Secretary of Defense

"With any luck they'll come simultaneously, rather than stacked."

"Seems the best we can do is continue to follow the script. No one needs to know Pike made it out of the fiasco at the docks. When you think of it, it would have been dumb luck if Pike was taken care of then like we hoped, by Burress' hand. But in the end it worked out okay. Someone still nailed the bastard." He scanned his surroundings. "Though I'll admit I feel for the guy, it worked to our advantage Peck was attacked. The team was getting too close to finding Pike. Can you imagine if they had ID'd him before he wound up dead in that warehouse?"

"Whose brilliant idea was it to use the A-Team like that to find him? The whole goddam thing could have blown up in our faces. It was nothing but luck they took Peck away to nurse his wounds. How did that end up anyway?"

"The one time I looked into it he was seeing a therapist. Haven't kept up with it though. Thought the man deserved his privacy."

"Do we know if it was a random attack or something planned?"

"Far as we can tell he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. We would have been screwed if he or any of the others identified Pike."

"I still want to know why we, or the CIA for that matter, didn't know the smuggler was Pike. Was there ever a resolution to who offed him?"

"Don't think we'll ever know. Pike was crazy enough to have enemies around every corner. Any one of them could have lured him to that warehouse to waste him. Must say, made things a lot easier for us."

"Yeah, guess so. But in the meantime we stick to script. The team is wanted for jailbreaks and that mess at the docks."

"It's our story and we're sticking to it, huh?"

"Yep, something like that."


	8. Chapter 8

Mike held a fat highlighter between his fingers like a cigar. "How did we end up with this?"

"What do you mean?" These were the first words they had said to each other in over an hour of sitting side by side searching the files and responses made available to them.

"I mean for what these guys did to the way they live now, there's a hell of a lot more to this story than just them being wanted for breaking out of prison. What does the DOD and SOD care about a couple of jail breaks? This all should be under the jurisdiction of the DOJ and US Marshall Service, no one else." Mike had capped his marker and was rubbing his eyes.

"Exactly what I wondered. These guys are folk heroes. Why is it they're still wanted?"

It had been two weeks since their initial meeting with Hannibal. Harvey and Mike were scanning the interrogatory responses for the first time after receiving them. Mike immediately questioned a disquisition of the events that transpired at the L.A. docks.

"It says here this guy Burriss aka Lynch, Morrison and Pike were in together on the theft of the plates. Morrison was killed when Lynch tried to take out the team. Says Burriss was arrested and Pike was killed at the docks. Didn't Hannibal say they found Pike alive later?" He was shaking his head. "It also says Burress was carted off by the DOJ. Hannibal says it was the CIA."

"Let me see that." Mike spun the document for Harvey to see, pointing with his marker. "What the fuck is this?" He flipped through his notes on a legal pad before looking up at Mike. "Get him in here."

Mike pulled his phone and dialed, "Yeah, Hannibal. We need you here at the office. Can you come in?......Okay.....See you then." He disconnected the call and looked to Harvey, "He said within the hour. I need a break. I'll be right back."

"Yeah, Okay." Harvey didn't lift his eyes from the documents. Mike had left for the men's room. Gazing now at the wall of his office he spoke to Hannibal as though the man was in the room with him, "What's your secret, Hannibal? How the hell am I suppose to defend you if I don't know what they've got on you."

 

Hannibal was again seated at the long conference table when Mike entered the room. "Just you today, Mike? Harvey let you off the leash."

Mike smiled and huffed a laugh, "No, not really. We're all set up in Harvey's office. Would you follow me please?"

"Good afternoon, Donna."

"Nice to see you, Hannibal. May I get you anything?" inquired the redhead.

"No. I wouldn't dream of bothering you. If I should want anything I'll send Harvey," he said with a conspiratorial wink. Donna and Mike looked at each other and laughed as Hannibal made his way into the office.

"Harvey." Hannibal was extending his hand as he entered.

Taking the offering in his own hand, Harvey was short on pleasantries, "Have a seat, Hannibal." Again taking his own seat the attorney got right to it.

"Why do we have independent responses here stating Brock Pike was killed in the destruction at the L.A. docks when you tell me he was alive several years later?"

Hannibal's expression didn't give away his confusion. "Can't answer that for you. I know for a fact he was alive two years ago. I've already told you we were covertly recruited to track him down. The only thing I can come up with is we were used to bring down the smuggler but it was unknown the smuggler was Pike."

"How can you be sure it was Pike?" Mike questioned.

"This is something I will not go into detail about, but I will tell you all four of us saw and identified him."

Harvey pressed, "Well if you don't give us the details how are we suppose to trust what you say?"

"You're just going to have to take my word for it." Hannibal held Harvey in his gaze.

"That's not good enough," Harvey barked.

"It's going to have to be," Hannibal returned evenly.

Something major happened there. It was pretty obvious and Harvey wanted to know. "We're not leaving this."

Hannibal considered Harvey for a moment then ran a hand through his hair, "Mike? Will you excuse us for a minute?"

Mike looked to Harvey who almost imperceivably nodded yes. ""Would you like coffee, Hannibal?"

"How about a bottle of water?"

Mike was now standing. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes."

"Thank you, Mike." As the door closed behind Mike, Hannibal began. "I'm going to tell you one thing. I will not go into the details so don't bother asking."

Harvey nodded and leaned back in his chair.

"We first knew it was Pike after Face had been kidnapped and assaulted by him." He held Harvey with those blue eyes. "It took us several days to retrieve our man. We all saw him and Face confirmed Pike was his attacker. I'm telling you Pike was alive two years ago. There is no question about it. I have no idea how he was presumed dead at the docks. He had to have either been found alive or not found at all."

"What type of assault?"

"It's not my story to tell and I am ordering you to not pursue it further with Face. Leave him alone about it."

Harvey correctly put together it had been a sexual assault. "Does he receive therapy?"

"When we're home in California, yes he does."

"I understand."

"I appreciate your tact."

A moment later and Mike rejoined them bringing a bottle of water for each. They settled back to the notes and interrogatories, questioning Hannibal periodically to confirm details. Mike made no attempts to ask what had been said in his absence. It wasn't the first time he had been excluded from a conversation. He had on occasion done the same to Harvey, both knowing a client maybe more comfortable with one or the other.

"What made you think it was the CIA who took Burress?"

"Because he introduced himself to us as such. Name of Lynch." Hannibal chuckled. "Face says he looked just like Don Draper on Mad Men."

Two hours later and Harvey was telling Hannibal he would be deposing McCready first. He gave Hannibal a basic rundown of what he would be looking for in the deposition and asked if there was anything he was missing.

"No, I think you have it pretty well covered. Is there anything else you need from me tonight?"

The two men were intent on their pages. Both only shook their heads.

"I'll be going. Call me if you need me."

This brought Mike out of his study, "I'll walk you to the elevator."

He was halfway out of his chair when Hannibal told him it wasn't necessary. He could find his own way. Stopping by Donna on his way out he mentioned speaking with his men regularly by phone. He had told them about her and they were eager to meet her. "Hope it's soon."

"I'm looking forward to meeting them as well. Have a good evening, Hannibal."

"You as well, Donna."

 _Isn't he charming_ , she thought to herself. _Could get used to having a tall soldier around_. The smile winding its way about her face was a result of her contemplating the possibilities for a moment before returning to her work.

Later Donna popped into Harvey's office as she was putting on her coat, "See you two tomorrow."

Mike mumbled a goodnight and Harvey wished her a good evening before turning his attention to Mike, "Let's get out of here, Rookie."

"I don't have much more to go here," Mike said without looking up from his page. Not looking up until Harvey covered the page with his hand.

"It's time to go, Mike. I'll have Ray drop you off."

"You don't have to do that. I'll get a cab."

"Why do I still hear talking?"

Mike smiled wide, "Alright. I should probably check my desk though."

"It can wait until tomorrow." Harvey's head was down while he typed a text, receiving an almost immediate response. "Ray says he's not far. He'll be downstairs in a few minutes."

Harvey had his overcoat shrugged on and was flipping his scarf over his head. He was standing by the stainless coat rack and grabbed Mike's coat as he approached. Holding it open he slid it to the young man's neck then smoothed across the back of those shoulders as Mike adjusted the collar.

When Mike turned, Harvey was working leather gloves onto his hands. He looked up and gave Mike one of his eye crinkling smiles. "Come on." Mike smiled back and followed to the elevators. When the door opened Mike was pleased to feel the guiding hand on the small of his back. A hand he was becoming more and more used to and sometimes, often when he was tired, found he craved.

The elevator doors closed to the offices. Left behind were the files and notes in Harvey's office. Left behind was also an envelope that had been delivered to Mike's desk. An envelope of photos of Harvey at his condo, walking through the doors to the lobby. Harvey jogging in the morning. Harvey with his hand on the small of Mike's back entering the office building. Harvey purchasing a coffee and bagel from the street vendor outside the office. It was a warning. Harvey was being followed. There was a note on the back of one of the photos suggesting the efforts put into working with the A-Team maybe misplaced.

When Ray pulled up to the curb in front of Mike's place he stayed in his seat, looking forward, not letting his eyes wonder to the rear view mirror. He was well aware of the dance the two men had been involved in. Harvey quiet and attentive, rather than his usual abrasive and dismissive self. Mike looking directly at the older man to say goodnight. Harvey had been reaching the few inches to light his hand over Mike's before he exited the car. But now it was just as often Mike settled his hand on Harvey's before the vehicle had come to a complete stop.

With mutual, "See you tomorrows," Mike exited the car throwing a goodnight to Ray. Ray would wait at the curb until they saw Mike enter his building before pulling away. Harvey had long stopped pretending he was looking at something of the utmost importance on his phone and now turned his head as they passed the door Mike had just entered.

Ray was well aware of Harvey's tastes and penchants and was pleased to see the younger man had piqued his interest. He liked Mike, thought he was good for Harvey by just being himself. Ray of course would never voice his thoughts to Harvey. He was the model of decorum.

 

The following morning Harvey was surprised to see one Sarah Fields outside the building that housed the Pearson, Specter, Litt offices. It had been close to a year since their last dinner together. As Harvey said goodbye to Ray and exited the car Sarah passed by him then stopped.

"Harvey! Imagine seeing you here."

"Yeah, imagine that, Sarah. Seeing me outside my offices." Harvey was hyper aware. What was this about?

"How have you been, Harvey? It's been some time now, hasn't it? Still with Jessica?"

"Yes. I am. We're now Pearson, Specter, Litt."

"Well that's exciting news. I'm under contract with the Secretary of Defense."

"Is that so?"

"I've heard your name bantered about. Seems you've taken on a case that is rather cut and dry. Not very defendable....The A-Team?"

"Seems you've heard wrong, Sarah."

"Oh? You're not working with Hannibal and his men?"

"Didn't say that. What you heard wrong was our position of defense. Now you want tell me what you're doing here? I have work to do."

"Well I just thought I could give you a heads up that there's nothing further to investigate. After all Lynch was arrested with the plates. And that other man. What's his name? Pike. He was killed somewhere in the scuffle, you know, when the plates were retrieved. So really the only loose end is the A-Team being escapees."

Harvey's brain was spinning. What the hell is this woman up to? Why is she trying to convince him this Pike was killed at the docks? He had no doubts about what Hannibal had told him. He believed the ex-soldier when he said Pike showed up again two years ago. There was no reason for him to come up with the story of one of his men being assaulted by Pike. It did, however, make him wonder where Pike was now.

"You know Harvey, we left off with an open book. We still have a chapter to complete." She was running her finger up and down the lapel of his coat.

"I finished it up myself. As I recall you were in it to land a permanent trophy."

"What if I told you you heard wrong."

"It was good seeing you, Sarah."

"What? No 'The Way We Were'? Someone else land you?" she laughed. "We all know Harvey Specter doesn't do relationships." She was giggling now. But when Harvey didn't join in she was hit with it. "You are in a relationship."

"It was good seeing you, Sarah."

She watched as his eyes diverted over her shoulder before he stepped away. Turning she saw him approach a blue-eyed young man. Harvey caught up to him and the two walked together to the doors of the building. Harvey stopped and stepped aside, allowing the younger man to enter ahead of him. His hand came up and was about to alight on the small of the man's back when his eyes flitted toward her. When he saw her still looking he dropped his hand and followed the young man through the door.

She hurried down to the end of the block before taking out her phone. After an exchange of generalities, she got to the point. "Harvey is known for not being a caring person. But, those he does hold close he holds very close. Keep an eye out for where he spreads his affections."

......

"No. It's a separate account."

......

"I'll keep an eye out for the deposit."

 

Mike was hurrying through the corridors of the firm from his office to Harvey's, manila envelope in his hand. Donna wasn't at her desk as he made his way into Harvey's office. He was met with Harvey and Hannibal turning to look at him as he shoved the door.

"This was on my desk," he said sliding the envelope across the glass table.

Harvey opened it and sprinkled the photos out on the table. Hannibal rifled through the pictures. Pinpointing one he asked, "Is this your home?"

Harvey nodded.

Hannibal moved his attention to Mike, "When did this arrive?"

Mike's eyes were wide. "I don't know. I haven't been to my own desk all day. Haven't been there in two, no, three days."

Looking again at the older lawyer Hannibal announced, "Well Mr. Specter, you now have a houseguest."

Harvey barely shook his head signaling he didn't understand.

"I'll be staying with you."

"That's not necessary," Harvey tried to brush him off.

"Like hell it isn't!" Mike was rattled.

"Harvey, it's going on seven. Let's go to your place. I'll check it out for you and I'll be there if you need me."

"Really. I don't need a babysitter." But Hannibal had stood next to Mike. They both had their arms crossed and were looking down on him.

"Fine. Where do we need to go to pick up your things?"

Hannibal bent over, reaching under the table. "Everything I need is right here," he said holding up the kit he always carried. "Let's go. What about you, Mike?"

"My desk is piled high. I need a few hours to sort through, finish some things up and delegate out."

"Alright." Harvey was reaching for his coat. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay." Mike wanted to go to him, to touch him. He was worried, but it helped knowing Hannibal would be with him.


	9. Chapter 9

Harvey's cell rumbled on the kitchen counter. He and Hannibal had been spending the evening in a companionable quiet. Harvey going over the documents he had grabbed on the way home from the office. Hannibal engrossed in Phillip Roth, an author Harvey had forgotten could be found in his bookshelves.

Harvey was feeling mired. He was stuck on the same sentence for probably the sixth read and was reaching the point of diminishing returns. It would be wise to quit for the night.

It still sometimes amazed Harvey how Mike could speed read through documents that could bog down Watson on a good day. Give him a whiff of what was needed and he could productively analyze briefs, interrogatories, depositions, contracts: just about any written legal document. He could find the key misused word to send them down the rabbit hole of a whole new line of thinking, annotating in the margins as he went. There was not a real associate or junior partner with an actual J.D. employed at the firm with his innate understanding of the documents or whom he couldn't run rings around with his cabalistic interpretations.

And now when Harvey thought of them as "them" it was with a capital "U" for "Us".

It didn't matter how much shit he gave the young man, it was hard to throw him completely off course. Harvey had sometimes been as difficult as possible with Mike, feeling the kid needed to toughen up some, but it was seldom the case still. Mike's oversized heart, his care and concern for other people had become something Harvey embraced. Not on his own, mind you, but as filtered through this romance the universe somehow decided he needed in his life.

Harvey was finally coming to the realization he was courting Mike.

He picked up the cell, answering the business line, "This is Harvey Specter."  
.......

"Who is this?"  
.......

"Look, It's late. I'm not playing games. Either identify yourself and get to the point or we're done with this call."

Hannibal was now listening.  
.......

"Are you threatening me?"  
.......

"Don't even think of laying a hand on him. I'm telling you, if anyone touches Mike...Hello? Hello?....Fuck!"

"Where is Mike?" Hannibal asked.

Harvey startled. He hadn't heard Hannibal approach. "I don't know. He could still be at the office. He could be home. He's young, he could be out." He had to stop talking. He had misdialed Mike's cell twice and passed him by in his contact list.

Hannibal was walking away, his own cell to his ear, "Face! I need you and the guys...."

"Mike! Where are you? I need you to call me. I don't care how late. Just call me. Wherever you are, stay put and call me." Harvey pressed the disconnect. "Shit!" He went back to contacts and started calling various phones within the firm. If Mike was still working he may pick up.

 

Mike looked at his cell as he entered the elevator. WTF? Why was Harvey calling at this time of night? He had been in the library, surrounded by piles of tomes. He had left everything but a legal pad back in Harvey's office, including his phone. There was call after call from Harvey.

After deciding he had hit a wall half an hour prior he packed up and grabbed his overcoat, again checking his phone as he walked through the empty hall, past the vacant reception desk and into the elevator banks. He would call Harvey from the cab. He was simply too tired to turn around and dig up whatever Harvey was looking for. If he was no longer in the building even the taskmaster wouldn't tell him to go back at this hour.

The door to the elevator almost closed before he shot his hand out to stop it. It was cold out and he had forgotten his gloves in his desk drawer yet again. Every night for over a week now he stuffed his hands deep in his pockets to little relief from the cold. While he was thinking of it he would retrieve them then store them in his coat pocket.

Downstairs and out the large front doors, the city outside their offices becomes a different creature at night. During daylight the sidewalk is an ever changing flow of people. At times the current runs thick, a crowd jostling shoulder to shoulder. Other times it's a thin and uneven stream. But at night it becomes a darkened hall. This isn't a shopping or entertainment district. The daytime activity gives way to rest and the sidewalk is deserted. Almost deserted, there was one figure at least twenty yards down out of the glow of the building's evening lights half hidden by a stainless steel clad column.

The streets were deserted as well. He congratulated himself for remembering to call a cab before he left the office instead of dialing while standing along the curb. It hadn't arrived yet, but from plenty of past experience he knew it will only be a few minutes at the most. He's not wrong. As he made his way across the sidewalk to the curb he saw a cab about a block down.

He also noticed the figure had moved closer putting his nerves on edge. It is definitely a man. A fairly large man and he was moving without hesitation in Mike's direction. Mike glanced toward the oncoming cab and began to walk quickly in the direction from which it was coming. A look over his shoulder told him the man was gaining on him and now moving fast remaining in the shadows of the columns. Looking again at the cab he lifted his hand, signaling the vehicle and his way out of a probable mugging.

The cab had barely come to a stop before Mike was yanking on the door handle. Spinning to step inside he couldn't help but to look back. Leaning off to his right he had one foot in the cab and one still on the curb. He scanned the area; the direction from where he came, behind him, across the street. The figure was gone.

He sat in the cab closing the door behind him. The driver was watching him closely in his rear view, "Hey, you alright there buddy?"

"Yeah. I'm okay. I...I thought. I thought someone was following me. Did you see anyone?"

"Nope. Nothing. But I was also looking at you flagging me."

Mike gave his address and the cab moved forward along the curb. The driver was looking in his side mirror checking for nonexistent traffic. A few yards further and he briefly looked over his left shoulder as he moved his vehicle into the lane.

While the driver's attention was focused on the street to the left and Mike was surveying the sidewalk to the right, he saw the movement. There in the shadow of the building, obscured by one of the building's massive columns. In the darkest area where it met the concrete was a large bundle. As they glided past Mike could see it was the figure, but he was down on the walk. And just as they drove by a second figure came into view and rose to standing. Mike could see it was a large black man. As he stood to full height Mike saw he sported a Mohawk.

"Did you see them?"

The driver's eyes again focused on the rear view. "Didn't see anything." He assessed his passenger, moving his eyes between the street ahead and the man in the back seat. When he saw Mike rub his eyes and lay his head back the driver determined he was overworked and no doubt overtired.

Outside the red brick apartment building Mike paid the cabbie and made his way to the door. In a night that already had too many shadows he thought he saw movement to his right. Trying to punch his access code in the door, a thoughtless action any other night, with jagged nerves he didn't seem to be able to land his finger on the correct keys in the correct order.

From the shadow where he had seen the movement came, "Mike?"

Mike dropped his briefcase. "Fuck."

When he stood back up with the case held to his chest in two hands, there was a man standing on the sidewalk. "It's alright Mike. Hannibal sent me."

Still leery, Mike turned to look at the man head on. "What do you want?" He was a handsome man, around Harvey's age.

"I've been outside here tonight. Kept an eye on things for you. I don't want any repeats of what happened outside your office."

"How do you know about that?"

"Because one of our guys was watching out for you there and let me know. Sounds like he precluded what could have been a very nasty incident."

Mike looked at the keypad, willing it to open the door without intercourse from him.

The man continued. "It would be best if you stayed with Harvey and Hannibal for a while. Pack up some clothes to get you through work tomorrow and into the weekend and I'll call you a cab to get over there."

"I'm calling Harvey. If this checks out with him, I'll call my own cab."

"I'll take care of it, Mike. We know our phones are unknowns, burners. Can't say with certainty the same about yours. But call Harvey." Then with a smile, "Okay?"

Mike pursed his lips, "Yeah, okay."

"Fifteen minutes enough time?"

Mike nodded.

"The cab will be here waiting for you." He looked around the area for a moment. "You should get inside."

Mike was finally able to punch in the numbers in the correct sequence. Stepping over the threshold he turned back to again address the man, but the sidewalk was empty. He quickly closed the door and made his way to his apartment.

Once inside he hurried to his bedroom closet to dig out the duffel bag he knew had been buried there. Once found and pulled open on the bed he placed a call.

"Harvey?!"

"Mike. Are you..."

"Harvey, something's going on. There was someone outside the office...."

"Mike..."

"....I think he was coming for me. There's..."

"Mike..."

"There's someone here outside my apartment too...."

"Mike!!"

The younger man's mouth snapped shut allowing Harvey to continue, "You need to calm down. The man outside your apartment is there to help you. Okay? Do as he says. Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay."

"Pack some things and get over here. There will be a cab waiting for you outside your place."

With enough changes of underwear to last him a month he foisted his duffle and slung it over his shoulder then set it back down again. In his haste to be sure to pack enough clothes he had almost forgotten his toothbrush. Adding it to his shave kit he surveyed the bathroom deciding if he was missing anything he couldn't borrow from Harvey or buy new. Grabbing the garment bag hanging on a door he slipped out of his apartment and made his way to the street in front of the building.

Even after being told, twice, he was still surprised to see a cab parked along the curb. Opening the back door he said, "Hi." The cabbie rattled off Harvey's address in the form of a question. Mike confirmed that was his destination and climbed in the back. What couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes seemed like an hour sitting in that backseat. Mike couldn't stop himself from peering down alleys and flitting his eyes over darkened doorways.

Pulling up in front of Harvey's building his door was opened by a man dressed in khakis, a leather jacket and a baseball cap. He was apprehensive about disembarking until the man said in a gentle voice, "Let's hurry up and get you inside to Harvey." After flashing a wide and open smile he said, "Let me take your suit bag, muchacho."

Mike turned over the bag. While he climbed out clutching his duffle with his messenger bag thrown over a shoulder, he noted the man paid his cab fare.

The building's doorman allowed him access, obviously having been tipped ahead of Mike's arrival. The man in the leather asked if he needed assistance up to the apartment or would he like to take his bag back. Mike told him he could manage and headed for the elevators.

Harvey was opening the door to his apartment as Mike stepped off the elevator. Seeing him struggling with the bags, Harvey met him in the hall taking the garment bag with him as he spun back in the direction he came. Once inside with the door closed. Harvey took the duffle from him and set it on the floor with the suit bag draped over it.

He circled Mike in an embrace the younger man could have sworn made his ribs squeak, "I was worried about you, puppy."

Mike was taken aback. Not only by the firm hold Harvey had of him, but also the tone of his voice, not to mention Harvey hadn't called him a puppy in a couple of years. His first inclination was to snark something about Harvey never cares, but he was stopped by the sincerity in the man's voice, not to mention his own realization he was a tense nervous wreck. He said nothing as he allowed himself to sink into the strong arms and return the contact.

Mike's nose found its way to Harvey's neck. There, with it tucked in the man's collar he scented Harvey. He smelled of light sweat, cologne, a gentle musk and receding fear. The feeling of reassurance mixed with Harvey's sigh of relief sent a tremor from the valley of his back upward along his spine.

Harvey leaned his shoulders back, keeping contact between their hips. Whispering his hand from Mike's temple, past his ear, he landed it cuffed around his neck. Barely ducking his head he glanced at Mike's lips then looked into his eyes.

Returning the gaze Mike felt himself freezing, becoming even more tense. It wasn't the reaction he wanted. He wanted to melt into Harvey, but he couldn't seem to control the constriction of his muscles. He only just shook his head. It was an unconscious movement. Unconscious and unwelcome. He doesn't want Harvey to think...

And then he saw it. He saw the change in Harvey. He saw how Harvey's lower lashes danced upward, how the crinkles formed along the outer edges of his eyes. He had to satisfy himself and looked down to confirm. There on his lips was Harvey's sweet smile. Streams of sunlight on an otherwise overcast day. Mike let out his breath and the tension drained from him.

Harvey responded as though Mike had followed a command. The young man wasn't quite sure he hadn't. Harvey, still smiling, again ran his hand along the short hair behind Mike's ear before releasing him. "Come on." He leaned down taking both of Mike's bags before heading down the hallway to the living area.

Hannibal stood before a sliding door to the patio. Mike found he again was nonplussed by the former soldier. His height coupled with the breadth of his shoulders was imposing. He again was overcome by the feeling, no, the knowledge this man could be very dangerous.

The rumbling voice spoke to him, "My men took good care of you, I see."

"Yes. Thank you," Mike replied as the older man moved toward him.

Hannibal draped an arm around Mike's shoulders, pulling him in. It had been a rough night and Mike's nerves were jangled. He stiffened as Hannibal reached for and landed his arm around. But when the man gently, but firmly drew him in he couldn't help nestling in under that arm and into his ribs.

Hannibal bent his head down to look Mike in the eye, then cast his eyes over the young man's face. "You look so tired. You must be exhausted."

"Yeah. I'm kinda coming down now."

Mike allowed himself to be pulled into one more earnest cosset, before the soldier let him go. "Where are you sleeping tonight?"

Mike looked around the room, eyes landing on the sofa then questioningly to Harvey. Hannibal had followed his gaze and announced, "Can't imagine a worse place here than on that stiff leather davenport."

Harvey's eyes moved from Hannibal to Mike and a soft smile skimmed across his face. "You can sleep in my room." He picked up the bags, holding the garment bag out to him by the hanger. "Come on Rookie."

 

Harvey felt at a loss. It was all so out there, not being able to hem in these thoughts and doubts and urges and just how the hell is he supposed to get any sleep tonight with this young man in his bed. Not any young man, but Mike. It's a bad idea and he should have put a stop to it immediately. "You take the bed, I'll sleep on the couch," he all but sputtered while picking up a pillow ostensibly to take it to the living room.

"No Harvey! I mean, no, I can't let you do that, abscond your bed right out from under you." Mike also grabbed a pillow from the bed and held it to his chest thinking he should go out to the sofa.

They simultaneously looked at the other's clutched pillow before Mike broke out laughing and Harvey spread into a wide smile.

"You need anything else?" Harvey asked, visibly relaxed.

"Naw, I'm good."

"Let's get some sleep."

"Yeah."

And with that they both climbed under the blankets of the monster bed. Reaching up, Harvey switched off the lamp before lying on his side. Taking a deep breath he settled. Mike seemed unable to though. He was wound tight as a clock spring and all but vibrated.

"You okay, kid?" Harvey asked into the darkness.

"I don't know. I keep wondering if I hadn't gone back for my gloves, would Hannibal's man been outside the office yet, ya know, when I left?"

Harvey felt a tremble course through the bed. He rolled to his other side facing Mike's back. "Hey."

"Yeah?"

Harvey reached out to Mike's head. Running his fingers through the soft, short hair he whispered, "You're safe now. Get some sleep."

Mike reached up to lay his hand atop Harvey's. "Thank you."

Harvey stroked to the young man's shoulder to give it a gentle squeeze before tucking his hand back under his own pillow.

As Mike sighed, Harvey could feel the tension reverberating through the mattress yield as his rookie calmed. "Goodnight."

"G'night, Harvey."


	10. Chapter 10

The rest of the team arrived precisely at 5:30 three evenings after Mike moved into Harvey's condo. Mike met them at the elevators and was intimidated the second they stepped out of the car. They moved as one unit. Each assessed their surroundings as they looked about the reception area. They seemed to communicate wordlessly.

The most prominent of the three smiled and said, "It's good to see you again, Mike."

Mike's mind flashed to the night he had come upon each of them, each appearing like Dickens' ghosts. "Thanks. You too." He felt uneasy with these men. He didn't know if it was their bearing or his own nervousness resurfacing from that previous night. "We're working in Harvey's office. If you'll follow me."

Two of them looked to the third who stepped to follow in Mike's direction. Turning to lead the way Mike noted the two flanked the third from behind. It struck him as a practiced formation.

Passing Donna's currently unoccupied station, Mike opened the glass door. "Come in, gentlemen." Harvey swept his hand across his office. "Make yourself at home."

Mike stepped aside to allow the three to pass through the doorway before him. The black man moved ahead extending a hand towards the Colonel. Hannibal took his hand at the same time clapping him on the shoulder.

"You look good, Boss."

"Thank you BA. So do you," Hannibal got in just before the green eyed man in a leather jacket over what looked like an Hawaiian shirt shoved the larger man away.

"Hannibal," he said excitedly as he rushed in for a hug.

The former Colonel accommodated him with a brief return embrace. When he lifted his hands away the man in the jacket continued to hold on tight, hunched forward, an ear pressed firmly in the older man's chest.

Their leader stood with his elbows extended out from his shoulders, hands in a surrender position while the third man approached. He tapped the goof on the shoulder. "That's enough Murdock. Give him a break."

Murdock seemed to come to and let go. Pushing away he said, "Sorry Facey. He's all yours."

Hannibal huffed an amused laugh and turned his eyes to Face who smiled a knowing smile at him with his head slightly turned and cocked over just a bit to his shoulder. Hannibal reached and palmed his cheek as he smiled. Face barely leaned into it. With no words spoken and still smiling Hannibal sighed as Face stepped away.

Hannibal addressed Harvey and Mike as they stood together in front of the glass top table, "Let me introduce you," beginning by extending an arm toward Face, "This is Templeton Peck. You can call him Face." Face stepped forward to shake hands with both men.

The black man came up behind Face. As Temp turned, he tried to get past the moving rock formation, who even wearing a winter jacket could be seen to have arms the size of whole hams. The two danced back and forth for several steps before the older snapped, "Stand still, fool! Let me get around you man."

Harvey and Mike exchanged glances without turning their heads.

"This, gentlemen, is BA."

Again shaking hands they said in unison, "Pleasure to meet you."

"Mm Hmm." He turned away muttering to himself.

"And over there," pointing to where their pilot sat on the sofa with his sneaker clad feet pressed against the edge of the small glass table, "...is HM Murdock. You can call him Murdock."

Murdock had been playing with the zipper of his jacket before looking up to wave, "I'll answer to just about anything."

"Get your feet off the furniture, Murdock," BA barked.

"The man said to make myself at home."

"You ain't got a home."

"Well if I had one I'd be doin' this in it. Anyhow, that's what these guys are gonna fix."

"Don't mean you need to..."

Hannibal sighed and looked at Face, "How long they been like this?"

"Since about one minute after you got in the cab."

"It's your own fault, you know. You don't rein them in." Hannibal wasn't even listening to the pissing match anymore as he addressed Face.

"It's easier for me to tune out a constant stream than the bigger explosions." Face gave his opinion like no one else was in the room.

"See that's where we differ, Kid," Hannibal added. "I'd rather spend days in peace and quiet and only have to pull them apart occasionally." Face was laughing.

"I've had to put up with this fool..."

BA didn't finish before Murdock chimed in, "Stop calling me names, ya big mudsucker."

Harvey and Mike observed the mayhem breaking out in the office and both had to wondered about the tales of these men functioning like a well oiled machine.

Harvey looked like he was losing patience and was about to bark. Instead, Mike broke in to say, "It's great to meet you all formally. We've heard a lot about you."

"Nice things?" Murdock inquired.

"Yes," Mike said enthusiastically.

"Then you haven't heard any of the good stuff," the pilot noted before focusing again on his zipper. Hannibal huffed a laugh and smiled indulgently.

"Well...um...Okaaay?" Mike continued, "By the way, thank you for the other night."

"That was our pleasure," responded Face with a smile.

Murdock was looking from his zipper to BA to his zipper to BA to his zipper. Harvey could have sworn he heard BA actually growl. Hannibal said just above a whisper but the men heard, "Enough." All three seemed to sit or stand a little straighter.

Hannibal crossed his arms as he took the lead, "Face and I are going to accompany you home, Harvey. BA and Murdock will be accompanying Mike back to his place for him to pick up whatever additional items he needs for an extended stay away from home. Face and I will stay at your condo with the two of you. BA and Murdock will keep an eye on Mike's place and surveil the exteriors of the condo and these offices."

He tried looking around the two men at the table and asked, "Where is the envelope of pictures?" Harvey went to his briefcase and retrieved them. Hannibal turned them over to BA. "I want you to know all the angles these were taken from and pay extra attention for return visits."

BA nodded and after a quick first pass through the photos, he passed them to Murdock.

As he slid them back home in the envelope Murdock spoke as though in a dream, "And what to my wandering eyes did appear?" The rest of the men turned to follow his gaze to see Donna returning to her desk.

Harvey crossed the office and opened the door, "Donna," he said as he motioned for her to join them.

Inside the office she introduced herself to the three men individually, asking a specific question of each. Poor Murdock, now standing, got an elbow to the ribs supplied by BA when he started whining high in his throat. Donna gave him a warm smile that all but melted his kneecaps out from under him.

All six men admired the retreating view of her form skimming dress as she passed back through the door and returned to her desk.

Murdock looked at Harvey and asked, "How did she know so much about us?"

Through the intercom came a voice, "Because I'm Donna. Goodnight boys."

They all looked through the glass wall of Harvey's office to watch the redhead put on her coat, gather her Fendi Aubusson-Print handbag from a drawer and awash them in a feminine wake as she made her way down the hallway toward the elevators.

"Well I think we should take her lead. Time to get you two settled for the night." Hannibal was still watching down the hall. Watching until Face cleared his throat.

Harvey wasn't happy with what he considered babysitters. "I think you're overdoing it. If you want to escort us home that's fine, but we don't need to be watched over like children."

Face moved to Harvey's side, dropping an arm across his shoulder. In a low voice he asked Harvey in confidence, "Don't you want what's best for Mike? Hannibal's told me how close the two of you are. He also said how much he likes Mike too. Let's make sure he's covered. Even if it's overkill, it won't hurt him." He slid his hand back to one shoulder. With a reassuring smile, "Okay?"

Harvey saw the logic and welcomed the concern for Mike, but being Harvey he was never complacent or immediately accommodating. "I can't argue with that. So go ahead and stay with him. I'll be fine."

Face had now stepped in front of the attorney. Leaning in next to an ear he whispered, "Not only are we all depending on you, Hannibal has become very fond of both of you. Please, for me, for him, let us do this for you." Leaning back again Harvey was won over by a new set of blue eyes. Not crystal like Mike's, but instead vivid like a sea. He couldn't not agree.

Smirking he peered at the man in front of him, "You're good. I've been told you can talk just about anyone into anything."

Face was smiling. Simultaneously lifting a shoulder, tipping his head into it and slow blinking he finished by saying, "It's what I do."

Face turned away to find Hannibal holding his overcoat open, ready for Face to slip into. He accepted the offer, sliding his hands in the sleeves. As Hannibal lifted it to his shoulders Face smiled and murmured, "Thanks John."

Mike and Harvey glanced at each other, both remembering Hannibal saying only one person calls him "John". They too gathered their coats and soon all six men were walking out down the corridor toward the the elevators.

Mike glanced around. He hadn't notice it happening, but he could clearly see he was within a formation. Face was in the lead with Hannibal close behind. Mike and Harvey side by side were flanked from behind by Murdock and BA.

When the elevator doors opened Face and Hannibal blocked the two counselors from moving forward. Face told the gentleman already in the car they would wait for the next one. Mike twisted to look behind only to find the two men behind there turned and facing back the way they came.

As Mike straightened again he brushed the back of his hand along the back of Harvey's, catching his eye when he looked in Mike's direction. He signaled with eyes for Harvey to look back. When he was turning back after a glance over his shoulder, Harvey briefly took Mike's hand, giving it a gentle reassuring squeeze. Letting go when another elevator door opened and they were herded inside.

 

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	11. Chapter 11

"This is what you want, isn't it Babe?" Standing on Harvey's balcony, Hannibal leaned back on one side while Face leaned back on the adjoining rail.

"It's really beautiful, in an Architectural Digest sort of way." He looked over the obviously expensive for no other reason than to be expensive patio furniture. "But it's not what I want."

"No?"

"No." Face paused a beat or two then, "It's not what you want. I want what you want."

"But all I want is what you want."

Face looked past Hannibal, taking in the view. Framing it into his memory.

Hannibal stared at the toe of his shoe. "We seem to have a problem. A bit of a standoff in regards to what we want."

Face had still been looking to the side of Hannibal and only moved his eyes to the man when he spoke. "We've had nothing but problems since the day we met."

Hannibal appraised him. His mouth barely twitched. _Shit_. He had broken first. He knew Temp saw it when his eyes twinkled and that smile slid into place. Their laughter blew simultaneously.

As Hannibal extended his hand, Face leaned forward allowing himself to be easily caught. Hooking around the back of his neck Hannibal drew Face in, leaving a sloppy kiss on his forehead. He found it next to impossible to stop smiling long enough to properly purse his lips.

Temp was looking at him smiling wide when John said, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

He folded his man in, soaking in Temp's warmth. Face's arms encircled Hannibal with a possessiveness Hannibal succumbed to willingly. Harvey and Mike looked on from the living room.

It was so easy between the two soldiers, Harvey thought to himself. What he was watching now was just a variation of what he had witnessed before. The two men laughed together. They truly enjoyed each other. They were wholly comfortable in their own skins in each other's presence. There was no tap dance.

His and Mike's banter came easily enough. The words flowed from each of them in a symbiotic blend of one gear rotating along another. But they were still gears, fitting their hard edges together, with the knowledge it would only take a minutely made wrong move to have them grind off one another.

The men on the balcony weren't like that. They were well matched soft surfaces, pliant with each other. They each were able to conform to a change in the other. There wasn't a fearful feeling of collision about them. They were joined in an ever changing ebb and flow. A perpetual give and take.

 

Harvey wanted that for himself. He wanted it for Mike. Harvey almost always got what he wanted.

 

He felt eyes on him. Turning his head he caught a glimpse of Mike looking away. He was certain his feelings for Mike would be returned. At least he thought he was certain. And therein lies his problem. He really wasn't certain.

In most cases Harvey would have cast a net and seen what he could drag in. Sometimes it caught, well let's be honest, most times it caught. Harvey would be completely upfront about low expectations for anything permanent. He would have his fun and move on. That's not what he wanted here.

He had come so close to something true and lasting with Zoe. Then the universe had other ideas and took her from him. He and Scottie had tried to make a go of it. That was doomed to failure from the start. Scottie wanted it, wanted it desperately, but his heart was never really in it.

He had first met Scottie in law school, but before that was undergraduate studies and Carol. The two of them played out their own version of Goodbye Columbus. He, a goy Neil. She a lovelier Brenda than Ali McGraw could hope to be. It was the first time he had fallen in love; swept away and blithering. That was another time the universe had stepped in to ruin his life, or so he thought.

His attention was split between the two men on the balcony and the single young man sitting here on the sofa. Would the universe let him have this kindhearted and gifted young man or was it just setting him up for another downfall.

Could he really forsake all other comers? Could he really spend his life with another man? He'd thought of the possibility, but circumstances had never before lead him this far down the path. His previous trysts with men were just that, nothing more.

There was a well known fact about Harvey. He bedded as many if not more partners than any other Lothario. The fact of that fact was that it wasn't a fact at all. He may have started out on such a mission; however, it dwindled in no time. The hours spent in servitude in the D.A.'s office squashed most after work activities due to exhaustion. Once Cameron realized what a resource he had in Harvey, he overworked and exploited him.

Moving on to Jessica's firm he found himself doing everything he could to not only thank the woman for sending him through law school, but to prove to her it wasn't money wasted. It was he himself who forced the long productive hours spent both at the office and until he fell asleep at home, often in a chair with paperwork strewn. Through the years he only let up a little on his self imposed travails. That being the case left little time for a social life.

Most of his entertainment was a consequence of his work. Drinks with clients, acknowledgements of big cases won, celebrations for colleagues. It was only on a Saturday night he would go out on his own for a drink, bringing back with him that night's sexual assuagement. And even then it didn't take long for him to find he simply didn't have the energy seeing as he began working most weekends as well.

There was hardly time to meet his sexual needs much less try to develop a relationship. Even bluntly pointing out his intent was of the physical nature he knew damned well some of the people he shared his bed with were still hoping for more. He told himself it was their own fault for not taking him at his word.

It was seldom when the night's partner became an overnight guest, but there were those few times. The one that stood out to him was with a woman by the name of Victoria. Raven haired and impressively lithe and nimble, Harvey chanted her name as they reached a mutual climax and asked if she preferred Vicki as they fell to sleep.

In the morning he was up making coffee, two mugs out on the counter when Vicki came down the hallway. He was quite taken by the beauty and was planning to offer a homemade breakfast or perhaps a brunch out. Before reaching the breakfast bar an unfamiliar ringtone could be heard coming from her handbag on the chair. Fumbling to get the device out and answered she said briefly to Harvey, "Excuse me," then into the phone, "This is Angela."

Upon completing her call Harvey slid a mug of coffee in her direction, "Coffee? .... Angela?" Wondering if it sounded as curt to her as it did to his own ears.

Angela had pulled out a brush and was fluffing her hair. "Sorry dear. I need to go." Putting her brush back in her bag she said, "This was fun. We should do it again sometime." She stepped up to kiss Harvey's cheek. He jerk his head back, out of reach. No one had ever used his line for, "I doubt I'll ever look for you again," on him.

It was that morning with the sound of high heels and the door closing still echoing in his head he resolved not to care. Yet here he was, years later thinking how much he liked the sound of his name when it came from Mike's lips. "Harvey?"

"Harvey, are you alright?"

"Hmm?" He blinked. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

"Where'd you go?" Mike inquired with a laugh.

Harvey realized the younger man was holding his hand. He squeezed it saying, "It's been a long day. I'm going to turn in."

"Me too."

 

They had said their goodnights to Hannibal and Face and were settling into bed. Harvey reached for the beside lamp. He had closed the seldom used sheers over the panes of glass that comprised two walls of the room. With the light out the room was in unaccustomed darkness. Only a hint of city lights filtering through.

"Harvey?"

On his back, he turned his head to the younger man, "Yeah?"

"Would you ever...?" he cut himself off.

Harvey now rolled to his side, "What is it?"

Mike's fingers crept towards Harvey's hand, lighting on it.

"Talk to me Mike." He waited for a response. "Mike? ..... You can ask me anything, but I don't want to suppose where you're going. What do you want to know."

"Are you afraid?" He took a deep breath. "I'm scared to death."

"I'm worried."

Mike took his hand back and rolled to his side, back facing Harvey. "I'm worried for them. I'm worried for you. I..."

Harvey inched closer. When he lighted a hand on Mike's shoulder the young man leaned back, barely touching Harvey's chest. He took in another deep breath before inching back just a bit. The air expelled from his nostrils as Harvey wrapped his arm around, snugging Mike firmly to his chest.

"Get some sleep, rookie. Tomorrow's going to be a big day."

Mike reached up to clamp his hand over Harvey's forearm as he was pulled even tighter to Harvey's chest.

The physical sensation of longing was thrumming in Harvey's spine. But he wouldn't act on it tonight. He needed to do this right. Needed to take his time.

" 'Night, Harvey."

Harvey didn't know he would do it until it was done and he was retreating from kissing Mike's hair.


	12. Chapter 12

The start of depositions was as antagonistic as it possibly could be. Of course McCready dodged. It would be weeks before they could even begin to consider scheduling his. 

Colonel Decker was as uncooperative and aggressive as anyone Harvey had ever seen. Besides sticking to the prison break scenario he blustered at the damage done to the L.A. docks as a result of the team's efforts to prove their innocence. He threatened Harvey and Mike with obstruction for not turning the team over to him or at the very least telling him their location.

He told them they needed to do a little more research. The information they had was lacking and incorrect. It was common knowledge Brock Pike had been killed at the docks. No, there was no way in hell he walked away. No, he hadn't seen the body. Why would he? He wasn't at the docks. He had been called in afterwards to track the fugitives down. But he read the reports. It was all there about Pike's death. He also claimed there was no second CIA agent named Lynch on the scene. Only Agent Vance Burress. He suggested the attorneys quit wasting his and their time.

After escorting Decker to the elevators Mike returned to the conference room. "Harvey?"

"What is it?" Harvey was still revved from the encounter with the obviously unhinged soldier.

"I believe him."

"What? You can't mean that." Harvey was midway between astonished and pissed.

"I believe he believes. I don't think he was lying. I think he truly believes what he told us." He didn't sit at the table with Harvey. He was feeling agitated and out of sorts. "What the hell is going on here, Harvey? I mean here we have someone who has been charged with chasing them down and capturing them. But I truly believe he has been given the wrong information."

Contemplating the younger man's words, Harvey wanted to argue with them. It was his nature to argue and press when something just didn't ring true, yet he couldn't actually argue Mike's thoughts on this. There was something hinky about the whole situation. Much as it went against his fact based nature, the word "conspiracy" had popped up in his mind more than once.

"I think your right," Harvey had to agree.

"If he's been given incorrect information it can only mean there's a reason they aren't meant to be caught. There's something to hide." Mike was still peering out over the city, the gears of his brain this close to smoking. "Remember how we were asking why the team haven't been caught yet? Even when their work can be so public?"

"Yeah?" Harvey encouraged him to follow the thought

"Why is Decker threatening us to turn them over? Doesn't he know where they are? I mean their disguises are good, but are they that good? Someone was photographing you. Do we think they never saw any members of the team while watching you?"

Harvey was about to respond when Mike said exactly what he was about to. "Someone doesn't want them caught. It's like they're making a good show of being after them, but really don't want them back in custody. I've been running this around in my head. It's only been a little niggling, but Decker just confirmed it for me. I think we need to start working with that premise as the base for our strategy."

Harvey nodded and added, "We need to go back to first base."

"We need to go back and study the wind up to the first pitch."

"So someone doesn't want them caught. Why?"

"Were they ever meant to be caught with the plates to begin with?"

"But reclaiming the plates is the only sane answer here. It would be total chaos to have U.S. currency floating through Iraq."

"Hannibal's not coming clean with us," Harvey said shaking his head.

"Do you really think that?"

"He's got to be holding something back and we're getting to the bottom of it. That pilot seems to be a weak link. From what I've read and seen he's unstable. I say we press him. Press him until it hurts the rest of them." Harvey was now up. He stood next to Mike at the windows.

"These guys are bad ass soldiers of fortune. You really want to rattle them? This is a dangerous game you want to play, Harvey. What happens if something actually falls out of their tree?"

"Guess it all depends on what falls out."

"I think you're wrong. I think you're forgetting how we got here. These guys want to be exonerated. They've been upfront about everything. They haven't held anything back. Well except when Hannibal asked me to leave the room. I don't need to know what was said, but are you confident what he said has no baring here?"

"Yeah. It's not a factor. Well except confirming Pike being alive two years ago." Harvey dropped his hands in his pant pockets. "Let's go back. Start from the beginning. I'd like to call in an associate to do research."

"Why? I'll do it."

"Mike, you're a junior partner now. You shouldn't be doing the grunt work."

"I'm not looking at it as grunt work. I'm looking at it as we're on the same wavelength and I don't want someone else skipping over something that may stand out to me."

Harvey nodded. "I'm going to talk to BA and Murdock."

Mike opened his mouth to object.

"Don't worry. I'll play nice." He tilted his head and smiled at the younger man.

Mike looked relieved. "I'm going to see what more maybe out there in the public domain on the original incident."


	13. Chapter 13

"Hannibal is a strategical genius," Face was saying, "...but there always seems to be one or more factors missing from his plans. It doesn't even matter if you come up with the missing element because there will always be another one. But then somehow in the end we always pull it off."

"Harvey is a strategical genius too," Mike compared, "...but he without fail let's his testosterone get in the way. I don't know how he managed before me. My job is to brainstorm with him and head him off at the pass before he goes headlong over a cliff. And in the end I don't know if we so much pull it off as pull a rabbit out of a hat."

Harvey looked at Hannibal then back at the two men, "You know we're standing here, right?"

Face ignored him draping an arm over Mike's shoulder, "Come on, Buddy. You make yourself comfortable on the balcony. I'll get us a couple of beers."

Harvey and Hannibal watched as the two split; Mike to the balcony, Face to the refrigerator. "Scotch, Hannibal?"

"Yeah, but we're kicking them off the balcony. I want to smoke a cigar."

 

Hannibal made good on his threat and shooed the two off the deck. The two men ran through information they had spoken of repeatedly, but still couldn't make sense of.

"Where is Pike now?"

"I don't know. Last any of us saw of him was in a warehouse in L.A. Could still be there for all I know or care." Technically, Hannibal spoke the truth. He had no idea if Pike had be found and buried or if he was still rotting in the abandoned building.

Hannibal finished his smoke and the two went back inside. Harvey refilled their glasses while Hannibal excused himself and headed down the hall. Face and Mike stepped out on the balcony to take in the sights and sounds of the city at night.

Harvey watched as Face and Mike talked and laughed. With the sliding doors closed he couldn't make out what was said. He watched as Face moved close to Mike putting his arm across Mike's shoulders and moved his lips in close to Mike's ear before saying something they both laughed over. Laughed hard enough that Face pulled him in closer looking into Mike's smiling face.

Hannibal strolled from the hallway and had reached the sofa when Harvey asked, "Do the two of you have an open relationship?" He wasn't looking at Hannibal but out through the floor to ceiling glass plates.

Hannibal followed his gaze to the two men on the balcony and smiled, "No. We are committed to each other." He huffed a light laugh. "For all he's been through in his life, it's a miracle Face is still functional. Instead of taking the last steps to shutting down completely he put his faith in me." He took a long steady look at his second. "I will be forever grateful he chose to. After opening up to me he had the courage to open up to a few others, a very few others. It takes a very special person for him to open to and it appears your Mike is one of them."

"He's not 'my Mike'," Harvey claimed.

"Isn't he? Well if he was, I wouldn't concern myself. Face is simply one of the most affectionate people you will ever have the pleasure of meeting. You should see him and Murdock. They have no problem with physical contact."

"It doesn't bother you?" Harvey asked.

"No. I believe and trust in him. He's my Lieutenant, my lover and my partner. Quite frankly, he rules me." Hannibal looked away briefly from the two to Harvey then back again. "And when you extricate us from this mess I have every intention of delivering on a promise I've made to him by taking him as my husband." Hannibal's eyes set on Face. "I think people should mate for life, like pigeons or Catholics."

"You're quoting Woody Allen?" Harvey huffed a laugh, brows furrowed and raised.

Hannibal shrugged, "We're in Manhattan. Thought it was appropriate."

Harvey now had his gaze firmly set on the young lawyer wannabe. "Mike once told me there was only one other person beside myself who told him what he needed to hear. Well she's dead and now he only has me. He only trusts me. And sometimes he can't even bring himself to do that."

Hannibal smirked knowingly. "This sounds familiar."

 

On the deck Face told Mike the story of Murdock setting his arm on fire and of the stitches in a lightning bolt on BA. He went into detail on how when you got to know him, the oversized and gruff BA wore his heart on his sleeve and told of his mechanical genius. His description of Murdock's mastery of the air as a thing of beauty and awe left Mike a little wide-eyed.

"It's not that I don't believe you, but frankly it sounds a bit far fetched. I heard he was good, but.... So he's like a secret weapon?"

Face laughed "We all have secrets, don't we? Is your only one that you and Harvey are attracted to each other?"

Mike was a bit flabbergasted by that. He turned to Face with a slightly astonished look. "Am I that obvious?" His mind flashed back to Harvey's friend Joe and their dinner at Tavern On The Green. "Anyhow, I don't know what Harvey thinks."

"It's alright. It's my job. You know, to read people. And no, it's not that obvious. You look like really good friends. But I can see it goes both ways." He could tell he had embarrassed the younger man. He attempted a gloss over, "It's a big part of your job too, isn't it? Reading people."

"Actually, that's Harvey's job," he said with a chuckle. "He's such a master at it, I leave him to it. Though he may have met his match in you."

They both laughed and took pulls from their beers. The two had been leaning back on the rail. Face turned, resting his forearms on the upper rail, looking out over the city.

"So, what's yours and Harvey's secret weapon?"

"Well, there's Harvey's tenacity." 

"Annnnd?"

"I have eidetic memory." Mike took another pull from his beer.

"What's that? Photographic memory?"

"Not exactly. It's more cerebral than that. It's mainly with reading. Once I've read something and understand it, it's there forever. I can recall it at will."

"Holy shit. And I thought Murdock's brain was crowded."

Mike laughed. "It's not everything, like you would think of a photographic memory. I have to understand what I'm reading. Take physics. I had a hard time with the basics. But once I had those down the rest came pretty easy. Harvey gets frustrated with me because he doesn't really get it."

"How so?" Face was finding this fascinating.

"For instance that first night we met outside my apartment. I may have run into the guy outside the office if I hadn't forgotten my gloves in my desk."

"Okay. I get it. Man, that's powerful." Face finished off his beer and a silence fell between them for a few moments.

Mike was this close to blurting out his other secret. His real secret. Face was having an hypnotic effect on him. He was surprised when he opened his mouth and said instead, "How long have you and Hannibal been together?"

"Long, long time. He's been my CO it seems forever. As a couple, close to twelve years now."

"You seem so at ease with each other."

"We're established." Face smiled at him, "But before we could be established we had to start somewhere." Another gaze on the young man. Mike could almost see the genuine warmth radiating from the former soldier and was a little taken back when Face said, "Come on. Let's go in, I'm getting cold."


	14. Chapter 14

Randall had picked up the call on the first ring. Without hesitation he agreed, which was how he found himself again meeting with McCready. Both of them unnerved by the most recent events.

"Maybe we should just let Decker loose on them. The hell with plan A. It's getting to the point where it doesn't matter if they're out there or not."

"We don't want them dead," shot back McCready.

"What difference does it make?" Randall was shaking his head. "After all these years, how did this turn into such a cluster fuck? I say enough of the drag hunts we've been sending Decker on. Give him the real thing."

"He hasn't got the finesse to handle this in the best way possible. If we actually let him off his leash there will be carnage that'll need explaining for years to come."

"Then why did we even bring him on?"

"It was Lynch's idea."

"And which Lynch was that?" Randall asked sarcastically. "It sure as hell wasn't Burress."

 

Decker had been a career Army man. Hannibal's age with none of Hannibal's grace or decorum. Like a bad priest he had been shuffled from one assignment to another. Always moved along when he had overstepped, yet without sufficient warning to the next group of people he would encounter in a new position.

He was sent overseas after having worn out his welcome at most of the bases stateside. The abusive drill master had become a loose cannon in the desert. Pushing his men beyond even the most stringent expectations.

He had for several months been in the same camp Hannibal and his men were stationed. He had become fixated on the Colonel, whom in his mind, was the sweetheart of the base camp, of Fort Benning, of more than just a few Generals. The tall man with the stark silver hair and his adoring micro alfa team.

Many a time he had observed the Colonel sharing a bottle with General Morrison, be it privately sitting outside the General's tent or along with the three men directly under the Colonel's command. He watched as the four men, fully geared, headed out of camp, often at night on clandestine missions that were never spoken of in public briefings. He noted when the team would return exuberant, laughing and teasing each other. He also noted when they returned quiet, oftentimes damaged.

It was well known Hannibal's men would walk through fire for him. It was also well documented Hannibal was there for his men. He would never ask or expect his men to do that which he wouldn't. When things went wrong Hannibal could be found bedside holding a hand. When Hannibal himself was on the receiving end of misfortune, his men were bedside with him.

Decker felt an inappropriate anger toward the man and his team. He was determined in his own head to prove the other Colonel's methods and mores weren't as efficient and useful as good old fashion extreme discipline and impossibly high expectations. Yet by the end of his time in the desert he had lost more young men to death or injury than any CO since Vietnam. While both he and Hannibal were risk takers, Hannibal always balanced out the odds in planning and prep with trust in and knowledge of his men's capabilities and limits. Decker on the other hand found a certain sick exultation in the loss of a man or two.

Decker was sent back to the states after his plan to attack a local hospital was shut down. He was given a choice, one of which included a dishonorable discharge. He opted for a position that was only detrimental to the pencils he over-sharpened while in a daze reliving his relatively few glory days of combat. It was from the throngs of paper pushers he was plucked to head up a search for his old nemesis, a one sided nemesis in whose dereliction of respect shown only lived inside Decker's head. While Decker dwelt on the adversarial relationship, the four men of The A-Team barely remembered what he looked like, only that he was well known as a son-of-a-bitch.

"'Sic Decker on them.' Yeah, great idea. Now we have him asking questions." Randall opined.

"Well maybe we just have to let him have at 'em."

"You know as well as I do we can't do that. They're our insurance. If this whole thing blows up in our faces, even after all this time, we need them out there to hang it on. Be next to impossible to set up new fall guys at this stage of the game." 

"Only problem is he could actually come up with something on his own. He's not an idiot."

"We've managed to divert him this long..."

McCready cut him off, "When things got tight we could send him on a wild goose chase in another State. They're not currently on the move. They're more stagnant than I can remember."

Randall lit another smoke, lit it from the butt of the previous. It was his third one in a row.

"Ya know Decker is making noise with more than just us. He was blowing like a puffer fish after Specter got through with him. Couldn't put together why the lawyers had it so wrong. At least wrong by his knowledge." McCready was staring at an odd pebble by his foot.

"I can't put together how they've gotten it so right." He was drawing heavy on his smoke.

"There's more than one issue here. Should they come together I don't know if it can be salvaged."

"Let's look at Decker. He could actually bring them in while they're in New York. The longer they stay, the better his chances are."

"So obviously we need to get them moving again. Or we bring in someone new to track them. Decker can be disposed of. There's a lot of traffic in New York, he could have an accident. A lot of tall buildings. A lot of muggers."

"There's the other route."

"What's that?"

"We need to look further into Specter and Ross."


	15. Chapter 15

"Harvey?" Mike had leaned his back against the closed door of the bedroom.

 

The four men had said their goodnights. Face and Hannibal would be taking turns staying in the living areas, on watch while the other caught a few hours sleep. Face insisted on taking the first stretch. He told Hannibal even if he dozed off the place was already a bit of a fortress.

Being the penthouse there was no outside egress to the deck. Harvey had taken their advise and had the private elevator temporarily decommissioned. And an old standby was employed at the front door. A chair had been wedged between doorknob and floor; although, the keypad lock was already more secure than a lock set.

Mike and Harvey picked up the few files and bits of paper they had been working with and stashed them back in Harvey's briefcase. Mike was about to wash the remaining glasses in the sink when Face told him to leave them. "It'll give me something to do while I'm up." Rubbing Mike across the shoulders he added in his ear, "Go to bed. Harvey's almost down the hall."

Mike directed his sight down the hall just as Harvey made the corner into the master bedroom. Glancing at the other man, "Goodnight, Face."

"See you in the morning."

 

Now here he was leaning against the bedroom door with Harvey up close to him, taking his hand. The warmth of it eased some of the nervousness out of Mike. This hand was ever so slightly larger than his own. He could feel in it the contained strength.

Before he knew it, it was raising his own hand, raising it up to the lips that were leaning down to meet it. He was watching in wonder as he allowed his hand to take the path it was being guided on. He felt the urge to giggle and was positive he would burst as soon as those lips touched the back of his hand as though he were a damsel.

But then, he lightly drew in a singular breath as Harvey stopped short of the back of his hand and instead placed a gentle kiss to the knuckles of his fingers. Harvey barely lifted away, but brought Mike's knuckles to his cheek as he ever so slightly turned his head to meet them.

Mike was somewhat surprised to see another hand traveling upward to light on Harvey's head. He finally registered it as his own when he felt the contact with Harvey's hair. Harvey's eyes moved upward to peer into his. Mike felt a fluttering just below his ribs that traveled into his chest. It moved upward and seemed to take control of his lips as they slid into a wide smile.

With their hands together they shared the simple contact. Mike held their hands close to his chest and guided Harvey's head to his shoulder. Harvey could feel the slight trembling he elicited with each brush of his lips along Mike's jaw.

Harvey brought himself upright once more with their hands still held to Mike's chest. The young man's eyes fluttered. His breaths were shudders. He wavered. There were many things spoken, whispered and rumored about one Harvey Specter, Attorney at Law, but being the man himself he could attest he had never had the effect on another person as he just had on Mike. It humbled him.

Being allowed to kiss his cheek had Harvey looking at Mike in wonder. The crystal eyes, the wide and open smile and the deep crinkles that had formed outside his eyes. Harvey couldn't quite put his finger on when, if ever, he had been so profoundly moved by such a simple act.

Mike's features started to sag. He didn't understand what he was witnessing in the other man. But he could feel the smile lines return along side his own eyes as he watched them appear on Harvey. The older man disengaged his hand taking Mike's face along each side as he kissed his forehead.

Harvey's hands worked their way under his shirt to the warmth of his back. He took in the juxtaposition of Mike's soft skin laid over his young muscle. Dropping his nose into the intersecting curve of Mike's neck and his shoulder he burrowed his nose in under the cotton, at the same time he was unbuttoning the front, allowing him more and more access to the man. Harvey breathed in Mike's scent and had to stop himself from sucking the skin there into his mouth. Harvey questioned if he wasn't a little too old for hickies. Then again with another potent intake to his senses, thought maybe he wasn't too old at all. He smiled as he brushed his nose along the plane of Mike's shoulder.

He was breathing in Mike's scent, a scent that surprised him. Mike wore no cologne, it was only his essence. He gave off the scent of a man. Unlike his sweet nature, he was all man both masculine and musky. Leaning in to capture those lips with his own, Harvey faltered. His forward advance towards Mike's mouth aborted. Shaking his head no he looked to the floor.

What the hell was he thinking? It's one thing to fall asleep at night with fantasies dancing from waking hours into his dreams. It's quite another to act on them. Mike was at a disadvantage here.

"What?" Mike asked. "What is it?"

"I'm taking advantage." Moving to lean back he was stopped. Stopped by Mike's hand around the back of his neck.

"It's alright Harvey," he whispered. "I want this. I want you."

Harvey was searching Mike's face, particularly his eyes. Searching for even a flicker of hesitation. None was discernible, yet he still hesitated.

Mike looked off over Harvey's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Harvey." His eyes shifted back to Harvey's brown eyes. The eyes he wanted nothing more than to fall into. "I made a mistake. You know I do that sometimes. I thought you wanted... I thought you wanted as much as I did ..." His eyes escaped back over Harvey's shoulder.

Having Harvey's lips pressed to his own found Mike's knees go weak. He was in danger of sliding to the floor. He gripped Harvey's neck with one hand and pressed his other to the door behind him.

A whispered word found Mike blinking, wondering where the tears had come from.

"Mike."

 

Harvey was all hands. He had undressed Mike before himself then laid him just so on the bed. He lifted the young man's head and slid the softest of pillows under him. After nestling in, Mike leaned into the hand caressing his face.

A hand wound its way under Mike's head, fingers sifting through the soft, short hair. The tips of the thumb and fingers clasped the back of his head as Harvey leaned forward to kiss him lightly several times. Raising his head away he stared into those crystal eyes.

Harvey moved back to sit on his heels. Mike was narrow along his ribs allowing Harvey to grasp around him. Thumbs to his front, fingers spread wide along Mike's back. One hand traveled to Mike's front, fingers stretched wide, searching, touching, stroking his upper chest, his pecs and his stomach. Soon both hands were around Mike's back as Harvey lifted him to be kissed.

 

Harvey allowed Mike to slip from his mouth, noting the glans was turning from a deep pink to an inviting shade of purple. Moving over the young man's thigh he sat back on his heels between Mike's spread legs and surveyed the man. Running a hand down each thigh Harvey looked on this sight in his bed. Though not what one would call "ripped", Mike had a lean and lightly toned physique. His abdominals were subtly defined, outlined by his gently sloping iliac furrows. He followed the V trails of ligaments to Mike's groin and his engorged cock. It brought a curling to the corners of Harvey's mouth, "Oh my god, Mike. You're beautiful."

Mike's hand covered his face as he giggled a bit in embarrassment. "No one's ever called me that before."

"Well someone's been remiss." Harvey grinned as he lauded the penis in front of him with a stroke of his hand.

Mike was blushing and wanted the attention off of himself. Though how do you do that when it's Harvey Specter's admiration? "You give great head."

Harvey smiled at him, head barely cocked, eyes all but twinkling. He surprised Mike by not demonstrating his renowned arrogance, instead saying, "I bet you do too." He lifted to his knees, his penis bobbing as he rose. Leaning forward his hands landed to either side of Mike's head. Lowering himself steadily to lie upon the younger man he supported his shoulders up by his elbows. A hand moved around the back of Mike's head, urging him upward to meet Harvey's lips. As Harvey provided Mike's cock friction with his own, Mike's sudden panting had him breaking from their kiss. His eyes closed and his toes curled.

Harvey couldn't get enough of the spectacle below him. Those impossibly devilish curls were in the corners of his mouth, "Look at you."

"Please don't Harvey." Mike's head was tilted, his eyes opened and pleading.

He stopped his thrusts along Mike's groin. Concerned he asked, "Are you alright?" while stroking the younger man's hair back.

"Don't mock me."

"Oh Mike. There's nothing to mock." He was searching the face below him. "I'm in awe." He ran his hand down Mike's side to his hip. "You're something to be admired. Someone to be cherished."

And he believed that. Mike was sweet. He was loving and caring. Things Harvey sometimes wondered if he had lost in himself. He again gently stroked Mike's side. He deserved respectful and quiet touches. Harvey wanted to give that to him.

He again thrust along Mike's erection. He surmised if the motions he was using were giving him comfort they were giving comfort to Mike as well. No use taking chances though, "Is this good?" Harvey took the press of cheek into his own as an affirmative. "I want this to be good for you." He whispered as he continued, pleased Mike was reciprocating.

He could feel the warm breath along his auricle at the same time he heard, "It's nice," sighed into his ear.

"Have you thought of this moment before?" Then as a little encouragement added, "I have."

It came as a whisper, "Yeah."

"What did you think of? What can I do? What fantasy can I make come to life for you?" It wasn't a whisper. It was low and seductive. It was all Harvey and Mike couldn't contain his moan.

"This _is_ my fantasy. Being with you."

Harvey kissed him. "Mine too."

 

Harvey noted how quiet Mike was. Only the occasional mewl escaped him. This was new. He was used to his partners being vocal and all too often over the top. But not Mike. No he was quietly taking it all in. Harvey soon learned to listen to the younger man's breathing. Listen to the pace, the flow, the sighs, the hitches. For Harvey it was incredibly seductive and posed him with a challenge. He was finding different angles, different speeds could change Mike's breaths. Combined with touches of his hands or lips he could evoke sighs. Harvey leaned back to look down on this young man with his chin thrust to the ceiling and his eyes closed - accepting, concentrating, absorbing.

He was overwhelmed with this unobtrusive and subtle display of pleasure. Harvey couldn't remember ever experiencing an intimacy like this, with a man or woman. He felt warmth spread through his chest as he looked down on Mike, as he pressed in and out of his body.

 

Mike couldn't help wondering, _How had they not done this before?_ Mike on his back with Harvey doing all sorts of wonderful things inside of him. He was being rocked in rhythm and there was a pulsing pressure as blood pooled in his groin

Every one of Harvey's motions were measured. Mike knew it was his pleasure Harvey was focused on. As Harvey eased in, Mike could feel every changed angle. He quivered and sighed to Harvey's touches. He soaked in the care Harvey was using to make this the rarest encounter he....

Harvey had reached between them and had taken him in hand. Firmly fisting him. Mike was suddenly falling. Falling from a great height, eyes closed, waiting, waiting to be caught, and he was. Harvey's mouth was on his own. The feeling of descent halted with a brush of lips. Those pliant pillows around him grounded him and he was gently brought back into the moment.

 

Reaching between them he took Mike in his fist. Still watching that expressive face he saw the brows furrow, the hands on his biceps clenched, he listened as the breath hitched then held, felt as the dense cock in his hand heated and spasmed, spreading Mike's seed. He pressed his lips to Mike's. Without conscious thought he stuttered in his movements, his eyes sliding closed as his own contractions brought a loud moan to his lips.

 

Face settled on the sofa. With the lights out he could sink into the dark on both sides of the glass. He imagined the sounds of traffic, the city at night, filtering through the forest of skyscrapers. He imagined this was his and John's home, though he knew they would live much more simply. Even though they had been joking about only wanting what the other wanted he knew it was partially true. He wouldn't push John into this fantasy anymore than John would push him to live in a remote cabin.

From where he sat he could hear Hannibal's deep breathing. He'd know the rhythm of it anywhere. He could hear something else in the night. It made him smile. He got up and went to the sliders. Along these windows the sounds of the other occupants of the penthouse were blocked giving them their privacy.

Sometime in the night Face woke from his doze to a companion sitting down on the sofa beside him. An arm pulled him into rest his head on the familiar chest. "Hey, Babe. Did you get much sleep?"

"Just dozed here and there," Face said through a yawn.

"Why don't you go lie down?"

Face burrowed in a little deeper, "In a bit."

 

When Face woke in bed he could hear voices he assumed were coming from the kitchen. Someone was in the shower. He lolled about in the bed until he heard the flow of water being shut off. He had showered the night before. Slipping on a pair of jeans and turtleneck, he made his way to the hall bath. After splashing his face with water and brushing his teeth he turned his attention to the toilet.

Stepping back into the hallway he again heard voices coming from the living area of the condo, Harvey and John, but he also heard movement coming from the master bedroom. Looking around the door frame he saw Mike standing in front of the mirror knotting his tie.

"Mike."

Mike turned to see Face with his eyebrows raised, thumb up, a question in his eyes.

Mike just looked back and smiled. Face was happy for him.

"Have time for coffee before you go to the office?" Face was now leaning in the doorway.

Mike glanced at the bedside clock. "Yeah, we don't need to leave for another twenty minutes." He grabbed his suit coat and followed Face out the door and down the hall to join the other two men already halfway through their mugs.

Mike approached the breakfast bar, "Good morning," he smiled at Hannibal and beamed at Harvey.

"Good morning, Mike," Hannibal greeted.

Mike was cool. Harvey turned red.


	16. Chapter 16

"Hey Harvey, the analysis of that bill came back." Mike was looking over the results.

 

Harvey's interviews with BA and Murdock produced little information they didn't already have, though Murdock's rendition of the night the plates were stolen was an entertaining tour de force. They moved the chairs on either side of the coffee table together, giving Murdoch an open area, a stage.

Playing all the parts complete with ad lib costuming and props, created from Swingline and 3M products, he somehow managed to include an operatic rendition of "Where The Boys Are" and a nod to Tick-Tock the crocodile. The climactic finish was topped off by Murdock fishing out of his wallet an actual twenty dollar bill he had picked up from the ground that night in Iraq. Standing atop the arm of Harvey's sofa Murdock hummed Ride of the Valkyries while BA, Harvey and Mike were transfixed watching the bill as it fluttered to the floor.

Mike stood and said, "Well thank you for that Murdock."

"Help me down, will ya sweet cheeks?"

Mike smiled as he walked over and extended his hand up for Murdoch to take.

Murdoch smiled down on Mike saying, "Oh! Well you'll do too."

Harvey suffered a condition that seldom, if ever, struck him. He was speechless. The pilot was off the charts. Harvey came to as he watched Murdoch retrieve the bill. He asked if they could borrow the counterfeit bill to have it analyzed.

 

Mike was now telling Harvey the results. "So if he says this is a lousy counterfeit what was the fuss about?"

"Tell me again."

"The micro text ink printing quality is inferior, smudged. The hologram is misplaced. The ink itself doesn't have a color shifting quality. But the major problems are in the roughness of the cut of the plates. Apparently any trained dollar store clerk could have ID'd it as fake."

Harvey was shaking his head, "It wasn't about the plates, was it?"

"Seems less and less likely. I've found some obscure references in an old magazine online on something else, but give me some time to work on it."

"Give me a hint?"

"An illegal mint in Syria."

"What details have you got?"

"None."

"What more can you get?"

"I don't know if there is anymore on it. Haven't found anything else and that was just an offhanded mention. I was planning on going through some of the FOIA documents again to see if anything popped out."

"Alright. Keep on it. But in the meantime I need to go talk to Jessica. I'm going to let her know about us."

"Why?"

"Think we owe it to her."

"I'll come with you," Mike offered as he set the file down.

"It'll be better if it's just me." He took Mike's hand, moving his thumb over the young man's knuckles, scanning his face just to feel the warmth it evoked in his chest. Letting go he asked, "Meet you back here in an hour?

Mike nodded.

"Where's Face?"

"Louis had some surveillance questions for him. He's looking for new ways to spy on the associates."

"Rescue him in a little bit, will ya?"

"Will do."

 

"Jessica, I need to have a word with you," Harvey said as he took a seat across from the woman busy behind her desk.

"How quick can you make this? I'm a little tied up at the moment."

Harvey had unbuttoned his suit jacket and crossed his legs. "I'm seeing someone."

"Well I'm assuming it's serious and not that you want to start discussing your one night stands with me. But be that as it may, I don't have time at the moment to give advice to the lovelorn."

"Yes, it's serious, but no, I don't need advice. I do, however, think you should be aware of it and whom I'm with."

"Tell me you're back with Dana goddamn Scott, and I swear to you Harvey, I'll pitch you out the window and never look back." Her hands were perched over her keyboard letting loose the occasional twitch.

"No. It may have taken years to finally admit it, but Scottie and I aren't good for each other."

Jessica leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. "You were just fine for her. She wasn't good for you. Which still doesn't tell me why I should care about your dating activities. It's none of my business where you choose to insert your..."

"It's Mike." Elbows on the arms of the chair, Harvey had steepled his fingers in front of his chin.

He swore he could hear Jessica raise her eyebrows. She made a quarter turn with her chair to look out over the darkening sky. Arms still crossed she rocked her chair for one and one half dead quiet minutes. Turning back again she was annoyed to see Harvey flicking at lint on the knee of his slacks. To her way of thinking he didn't have the good manners to look even a bit contrite. _Arrogant and proud_ she thought to herself and once again, as she had so many times before, found she had to physically restrain herself from diving across her desk and strangling the son-of-a-bitch.

"What is it with you and that goddamn kid?"

"I don't know what to tell you, Jessica. There's always been..."

"That was rhetorical, Harvey. I really don't give a shit if you see fireworks when you look deep in his eyes."

"See that's funny because I actually do..."

"Shut up Harvey before I throw this stapler and anything else I can get my hands on at you."

Harvey was indeed arrogant and proud; however, he was not stupid. He kept his mouth shut as Jessica spun her chair around to access the cabinets behind her. Harvey heard the unmistakable sound of liqueur being poured into a tumbler. She spun again with the glass in her hand. She lifted it to him.

What were we just saying about Harvey not being stupid? Well forget that. He reached forward saying, "Thank you."

Jessica snatched her hand with the drink back, "This isn't yours."

Harvey froze. Leaning forward, arm outstretched, ass off the chair for a count of three before easing back down in his seat. He again crossed his legs and pulled his jacket fronts closed.

When she was satisfied he was well and planted, she raised the glass aloft once more. "Congratulations, Harvey. You have officially plucked my last nerve." No one could argue Jessica was anything but an elegant woman. Or it could be looked at as no one would dare accuse her of not being some such. Not even as she threw the amber liquid down her throat in one shot.

Setting the glass down with a tink on the glass desktop she stated what she thought was the obvious, "Pearson, Specter, Litt frowns upon workplace romances between bosses and subordinates, but here we are with your second in as many years."

"Oh please Jessica. You act like I'm the only one in the building with any heart."

"Harrrrvey?" It was a warning.

"What? It wasn't a problem for Mike and Rachel. It wasn't a problem for Donna and Stephen Huntley. How about Louis and Nigel's cat? What about you and Jeff Malone..."

Jessica cut him off, "Are you about to trot out Dana Scott after all?"

Harvey glared at her and stood from his chair. One lap and back of pacing and he was behind the chair where he had been seated. Placing his hands on the back he leaned forward. "You're not interested in me waxing poetic about the man and I'm not interested in giving you details. I just thought you should know."

"You see Harvey, there are two things wrong with what you just said. You're better than that." Harvey opened his mouth to speak, but Jessica lifted one finger to hush him and plowed on, "He's not a man, Harvey. He's a kid."

Harvey jumped on it, "He's thirty-two. Not a child."

"Man or boy, he's a 'he'!"

"Do you think I didn't notice?!"

"Since when does your door swing both ways? News to me!"

"Never concerned you before, did it? And the answer is, 'Always'."

Jessica just stared at him for a moment before she again spun in her chair. This time when she was again facing forward she held a decanter and a second glass. She poured two fingers in each piece of crystal. Standing she walked one to Harvey who accepted it reluctantly after she motioned towards him with it a second time.

"Is this because of Hannibal and Face?" she asked quieter now, standing next to him in front of the sofa as he peered through the window to the checkered-lit city.

"Partially. Seeing them together .... Well..."

"I also didn't know this side of Mike."

"Maybe because he didn't give it much thought either."

"Oh Harvey. Why?"

"Why what?"

"Don't play stupid with me." For as much as he could drive her insane, she truly cared for the man beside her. "Why are you setting yourself up like this?"

"I could love him Jessica. If I'm honest, I already do. If he's willing to make a go of it, I can't pass it by. I just...can't."

"Ohhhh. You got it baaad." She smiled, threading her arm through his and tipping her head to his shoulder.

"Yeah." He finished his drink in one final gulp. "I guess I do."


	17. Chapter 17

McCready was still foaming from his brief phone encounter with Harvey.

"Look we need an end to this. The whole lot of them are proving to be more resilient and determined than I ever imagined. Specter is pushing for my deposition. The smug bastard offered to drop the whole thing. All I have to do is secure a pardon for the four of them." McCready was at the end of his patience with the whole matter. "You know what he had the nerve to say to me? 'I'll be more than happy to clog this up with literally hundreds of witnesses who will testify to the good works the team have done through the years.' Who the hell does he think he's dealing with?"

"He's good. I'll give him that." Randall had started smoking again over all of this. Had quit ten years prior but in one of his, more and more frequent, moments of stress he picked up a pack and was back to his pack-a-day habit in less than three days. Taking a long drag, the smoke was exhaled as he spoke, "We need to put fear into him."

"We tried that once."

"If at first you don't succeed..."

 

"What is it Hannibal? What is it you're not telling me?"

"What more do you want, Harvey?" Hannibal was at a loss.

"I don't believe you're wanted for a jail break that frankly no one gives a rat's ass about. What are you holding back? There has to be something." Harvey was gearing up to rip Hannibal a new one if he didn't tell Harvey what he needed to know. But it would need to wait a minute. He had a text from Mike saying, "Call me. I need you."

Harvey rang Mike's cell number. A brusque voice answered, "Glad you called."

Confused and certain he called the wrong number he told the caller, "Sorry. I dialed the wrong number."

Across the line came, "If you're looking for Mike, he can't come to the phone now."

Harvey couldn't hide the look of confusion on his face. Hannibal caught it and stared at the man, willing him to explain.

"You will do exactly as I tell you," flitted over the line. Harvey's chest had a feeling of implosion. Hannibal was leaning in beside Harvey's ear to listen. The voice continued. "You will be dropping the A-Team case and your little man will be fine. I need for you to come to me..."

"Alright," Hannibal was computing what it all meant. "Mike will be fine. Face is with him." They had gone out together for bagels and a coffee.

Harvey was fighting back fear as Hannibal tried reaching Face. "I'm not getting anything. No ringing, no sounds at all. His phone has been blocked."

"How can that be? You said your phones were secure." Harvey's fear for Mike was morphing into anger.

"Mike's isn't. They may have accessed Face's through his."

Hannibal had typed out the very basics to BA's burner before his also went dead. He hadn't the chance to ask BA and Murdock to come for them. Harvey already had Ray on the line. He could be to Harvey in five.

"Let's go." The two men hurried past Donna who raised an eyebrow, "Can't explain right now," Harvey threw over a shoulder as they jogged to the elevator bank.

 

"Face! Mike! Come here. Get in!"

The SVU BA was using while in the city was at the curb a block down from the office and the bagel cart. As the two climbed in the back seat BA gave Face a rundown from the message he had received from Hannibal.

"Hannibal and Harvey are on their way to a meeting. They were told Mike had been abducted. What the hell you doing out here?"

"We needed some air, get away from it for a bit. We grabbed bagels and walked down the block."

"Crazy here saw you or we would have been gone."

"We saw Hannibal and Harvey get in Ray's car when we were down the block," Murdock threw in.

"We think it's an ambush?" Face asked climbing on his knees on the back seat.

"Don't know. Think we should go with that assumption," BA said as he scanned the traffic ahead for the black car.

Face was sitting back in his seat after retrieving a case from the back. Upon lifting the cover Mike blurted out, "Jeezus, Face! What the hell is that?"

"It's my birthday present from Hannibal. Isn't she a beauty?" Face stroked his Hekler & Koch. Attaching the scope he elaborated, "It's a DMR."

Mike looked at him blankly.

Dropping the case to the floor the sniper smiled at him, "G3A3ZF-DMR. Designated Marksman Rifle. Little more portable than my PSR." He was met with another blank expression. "Oh. That's a Precision Sniper Rifle." Pointing the muzzle at the floor he directed a question to Murdock and BA, "What ya got, guys?" Then back to Mike, "The best thing you can do to help me is to follow my orders, got it?"

"Got it," Mike responded without question.

"Eyes on the car. See it up there, BA," Murdoch was pointing ahead.

Just as BA locked in on it they were stopped in traffic at a light. Slapping his palm on the steering wheel BA was starting to growl. Scanning a block ahead as best he could he was looking at the odd vehicles in the rolling sea of cabs.

Moving along again, "Anything?" asked Face.

"Got nothing, Faceman," came back BA.

"That's Ray's car." Mike was pointing out the window down an open ended alley.

"Shit!" BA had overshot the alley and was stuck following traffic.

"Go around the block, BA. The alley opened on the other end."

Around the block BA inched the vehicle along the far entrance of the alley.

"I got something, Facey." Murdock was peering up through binoculars. "See it up there?"

Face followed Murdock's line and caught the end of a rifle barrel over the edge of a roof, along a cornice. Hannibal wouldn't have seen it from his angle. "Switch seats with me Mike." They hurriedly swapped and Face told him, "Stay over on your side Mike. I may need some extra room." Mike plastered himself against the opposite door.

"I don't have a clear shot, BA. We're gonna hafta cowboy it."

"Got it Faceman." He slammed the gearshift in reverse, backing a dozen feet before going back to drive and hitting the gas to send them several yards down the alley. Face was hanging out the back window firing to the ground all around Ray's car.

Looking through the windshield Hannibal recognized the SUV and made Face hanging out the window. "Get out of here Ray! Back! Back! Go back!" Ray had the car reversing back out of the alley before Hannibal finished.

As Ray squealed his tires escaping, the shooter on the roof stood to take aim. Face exhaled and nailed him just above the wrist.

"Dammit! I missed."

"What are you talking about? You got him in the arm. I saw it!" Mike shouted, adrenaline coursing through him.

"Facey's got this signature shot where he shoots the trigger hand. Kinda maims 'em for awhile," offered Murdock.

Mike's mouth was hanging open when he looked to Face, silently asking if that was true.

"Puts them out of commission for two months minimum." He was disassembling the DMR and fitting pieces back into the case. "Get us back to the condo, BA. Make sure you get ahead of Ray." He didn't need to add so Ray would follow. It was understood.

"On my way, Faceman."

Face had settled back in his seat. Reaching across he squeezed Mike's forearm. "You okay?"

Mike barely nodded before saying, "Yeah. I'm fine," and turned his head to look out the window. He was anything but fine.

 

When they reached the condo Harvey and Hannibal exited after Hannibal told Ray he needs to take his family on vacation; now, don't argue, it's for his safety. He told him Harvey would pay for it and would call when it was time to come back. In front of them along the curb, Face and Mike also hurried out and made for the building entrance. BA and Murdock would set up surveillance of the building.

"We will set up new burner phones in the morning," was all that was said as they took the elevator up to the top floor. Mike noted both Hannibal and Face held their hands in the same position along a hip. When Face shifted, Mike caught a glimpse of a handgun. With Hannibal in the front and Face walking backwards from behind they were quickly herded in the door.

Ensuring the lock was secure Hannibal admonished them to stay away from the windows and not to turn on lights as he hurried Face, who had become increasingly quiet, down the hallway to the guest room, closing the door behind them.

Harvey went to the bar and poured glasses of scotch for himself and Mike. Neither man taking off their coat. They had priorities.

In the guest room Hannibal had closed the door and turned to Face. "It's okay, Babe," he murmured as Temp melted into him. Wrapping around his shoulders he knew what Temp needed; his solid mass and his firm hold. He needed to be steadied. "Soon Temp. Soon."

Face leaned back. It took him a few seconds to open his eyes. When he did, there were no tears and his jaw was steady. Hannibal saw right through it. He knew the effort his man was putting in to stop himself from falling, to keep himself pulled together. He opened his mouth to speak then thought better of it and closed it again.

Hannibal palmed his cheek while holding a hand. Leaning into the palm Face closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Straightening again he confessed, "I missed my shot."

"I don't know what you mean. I didn't see it."

"There was a shooter on the roof. John, I think it was Decker. I hit his wrist instead of his hand."

Hannibal reached for his cheek again, but Face shied away.

"I missed because I was so rattled by the possibility of you being ...." He couldn't finish.

"Soon, Temp. I have faith in these two. It'll be soon."

"I don't know how much farther I can go, John."

Hannibal leaned in to kiss his forehead then rest his own on the spot. "I know, Babe. I know."

 

Harvey handed over the scotch. The two swallowed more than what would be considered proper. Harvey watched Mike as he raised and lowered the glass. He couldn't ignore the trembling.

He reached out, taking the glass from the quaking hand. He set both glasses on the breakfast bar. Stepping forward he pulled Mike in, landing a kiss just beyond his temple. Pressing his cheek into his young lover's, "It'll be alright, rookie," he whispered as he tightened his hold.


	18. Chapter 18

Mike was pointing to the shipping manifest from when what remained of the mint was sent to the States. There it was, labeled toward the top of the page. He then pointed out something else to Harvey, toward the bottom of the page. Harvey looked to him as their thoughts collided, coalesced.

Mike had tracked the mint from it's location where Morrison's "death" had been staged through the various Army companies who guarded it when it was put aboard ship to the U.S. That's when he saw it. There was a hiccup. It was shown to leave Italy on a date in one document, but shown to leave from Italy again from a different port. Where is that mint now? When questioned he was given the answer it was destroyed, but he couldn't come up with documentation of that actually occurring. Yes there were witnesses to it being blown up in Iraq, but none when the parts were destroyed in the U.S.

Records of three soldiers who oversaw the transport show they traveled on the earlier date. Upon questioning, they never saw the contents of the crate they guarded. In his mind's eye Mike saw down the page to another shipment scheduled to leave two days later. Same size, same configuration, same weight, different destination. That shipment was scheduled to ship to a Latakia port in Syria. Not far from Aleppo. At that time Aleppo was on a cusp. Looking back it was the perfect time for war profiteers.

 

McCready looked angry as he and his counsel sat across from Harvey and Mike. Harvey surmised the anger was due to several things: thinking he had better things to do, feeling above all of this, having to answer to civilians, a poorly tailored suit.

Harvey flicked on the video recorder and began by stating the dated, purpose and people in the room for the deposition.

McCready announced before Harvey could commence his questioning, "We can save a lot of time by you understanding I'm a U.S. Government official who is required to keep information close to the vest and not make it public. It's simply a matter of national security.

Mike giggled and snorted softly.

McCready turned on him, "Find something funny?!"

"Don't get officious. You're not yourself when you're officious - That is the curse of a government job," Mike replied.

The corners of Harvey's mouth curled as he smiled at Mike, "Harold and Maude?"

Mike nodded, "Yeah."

"Look at you." Harvey was still smiling. "Good one."

McCready steamed, not in on the joke. His counselor spoke, "Let's get on with this farce." He too was trying to project he had better things to do.

Harvey began, "Are you familiar with a Mr. Brock Pike?"

McCready looked at his counselor who nodded in return.

"He was a unit leader with Black Forest. Rental soldiers in Iraq."

"Where is he now?"

"Dead."

"When did he die?"

"You know it was 2010."

"Do I?" Harvey and Mike exchanged glances. Harvey decided he would get back to Pike's death further on. "Besides being part of Black Forest what else was he a part of?"

Looking again at the counselor before answering, "He and Lynch, that is CIA Agent Burress and General Russell Morrison were involved in the theft of U.S. currency plates. They colluded to sell them to Iraqi insurgents."

"Where is the General now?"

"Dead."

"When did he die?"

"Why do you keep asking questions you already know the answer to?"

"That wasn't an answer. When did he die?"

"2010." McCready was seething.

"Where is Burress now?"

"Dead."

Mike glanced at Harvey. This wasn't the answer they were expecting. Frankly the question was only meant to be a bridge.

Harvey didn't flinch, but McCready did. "When did he die?"

"What do you mean?" McCready knew he let his temper get in the way and misspoke.

"You said Burress is dead. When did he die."

"I don't know where he is. I consider him dead and gone. Locked up. Serving a sentence."

Harvey narrowed his eyes at the man. Letting him know his attempt at covering had failed miserably. "We'll come back to that."

"Nothing to come back to," McCready barked. His counselor looked momentarily dazed. He knew McCready was known for his indifferent cool and was trying to figure why the man was so rattled.

Harvey would go back to the subject of Burress in a little while. "You say it was Pike, Morrison and Burress who were behind the theft of the plates. Where are the plates now?"

"Destroyed. They were damaged. Unusable."

"Damaged when?"

"I don't know, sometime between when Pike absconded them and their recovery," annoyance dripping from every word.

"But without the damage they were viable?"

"Yes."

"You're certain of that?"

"Yes I'm certain," he snapped.

The counselor interjected, "Director McCready is not with the U.S. Mint nor an expert in currency."

"Noted. Where's the mint?"

McCready narrowed his eyes, "What?" popped out of his mouth.

"The mint. The mint used to create the counterfeit bills that were flying through the air the night the A-Team first became involved. Where is it?"

"It was destroyed in the explosion."

"Was it now. Where did it go from there?"

"I told you it was destroyed."

"There must have been parts, debris."

"The parts were shipped back to the U.S. to be disposed of properly."

"Who disposed of the parts?"

"How the hell should I know!"

"Who the hell does know?!"

...............

"I'll note that as a refusal to answer. Didn't the Army guard it for transport?"

"I don't know."

"I think you do. Why was it transported in a crate large enough for an assembled mint?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Why was it shipped back in a crate large enough to transport a fully assembled mint rather than a smaller crate that would be sufficient for blown up debris?"

"I don't know."

"Why was an identical crate shipped from Italy to a port in Syria two days later?"

........ McCready only narrowed his eyes.

"Why were the two crates the same size?"

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about!"

"Is it possible the two crates were switched?"

"No!"

"Is it possible the mint was never destroyed? Never in danger of being destroyed?"

"Ridiculous!"

"Where is that mint, Director McCready?!"

"We're done here." He stood.

"I'm only getting started. Have a seat, Director."

He didn't answer. Only stepped out of view of the recorder and smirked at Mike.

Harvey reached up to shut off the recorder. He wanted to know what this guy would say off the record. "Got something to say?"

They left without another word.

 

Mike was pacing in front of Hannibal. "So where's the mint? That's the question. The only answer can be McCready is involved with the mint somehow being shipped to Syria. We believe this didn't have to do with the plates. Especially after being told they weren't any good from the get-go. They probably weren't damaged as everyone was led to believe. Or maybe they were, but either way they just weren't any good to begin with. It's been about the mint all along. We also believe McCready has been your umbrella. He's saving you in case he needs a scape goat, or four."

He gave it a moment to sink in before continuing, "You and the guys aren't doing any harm. You're actually doing good, even if you stretch the limits of the law from time to time. But if the shit ever hits the fan you're out there and the blame can be conveniently placed on you."

Harvey summed it up, "Hannibal, those plates were a red herring. It was never about them. It was an orchestrated bait 'n switch. While everyone was busy chasing after the plates, a magician made the mint itself disappear."

Hannibal slowly shook his head, "Well I'll be damned."

"I tell Mike to always deal in facts, but that's not what we have here. We have pieces of a puzzle that can only fit together a certain way even with pieces missing. Lynch, Morrison and Pike were played just as much as you and your team. Their greed and less than stalwart moral standards were used just as readily as your high moral standards were."

 

"Do they know about the exchange? Of the cargo or of the gold?" A day later Randall was feeling panicky as he lit another smoke.

McCready's mind was on assessment and damage control, "They're sniffing around the shipment to Latakia. They've put together it was the mint. But they certainly don't have the details of the thing. There's no way they could."

"Are you sure?"

"How could they? There's no way for them to know about the adjusting lever even if they have put it together about the damned thing. There is also no way for them to figure out the adjustment makes it viable to print Syrian Pounds."

"Well, the Decker issue seems to be resolved at the moment. He's had surgery on his wrist and won't be of much use for months. Time to start looking for that replacement."

"Did you get your answer about the kid? Ross?"

"Yes. They'll be moving on him tomorrow."


	19. Chapter 19

Two days after McCready's aborted deposition Harvey and Hannibal were in his office when a stricken Rachel came in, "Harvey! You have to do something. They're taking Mike away!"

"What?! Who is?!"

"They said they're with the DOJ."

Harvey and Hannibal were up and running for the reception area before Rachel's words had dissolved in the room. The elevator doors were just closing as they reached the bank.

 

Sitting at the glass table in Harvey's office Hannibal told him, "I understand."  He was well aware of how difficult it had been for him when he had been separated from Face. It was only six months, but for him it may as well have been six years.

He also knew what it had done to Temp. They seldom, if ever admitted it; although, they both knew. Face is extremely fragile. It's well known the difficulties Murdock deals with on a daily basis. What Hannibal and his young man also know is how on the brink Face is as well.

The six months he was separated from Hannibal was a nightmare for him. He managed for about two weeks before the cracks started to show. Mildly bi-polar in the best of times, when he felt a depression coming on at the four week mark he fought against it and employed contraband drugs. All he managed to do was careen into a seven month long state of mania exacerbated by the incorrect doses of the antidepressants and amphetamines.

The remaining five months of his incarceration were spent fucking anything within reach and exercising himself to exhaustion. When Hannibal broke him out he had convinced himself he was eligible for parole even though it had no basis in reality. Hannibal was beside himself with worry.

Face couldn't seem to keep his hands off his lover. He didn't sleep. If he wasn't trying to entice Hannibal into sex, he would incessantly perform push-ups or crunches. His speech was fast and clipped. Hannibal felt he had two choices: quickly break out their other two team members in the hopes familiarity would settle him, or turn themselves back in and arrange for Temp to be put under professional care. Luckily the first option, though slow and sometimes difficult, worked for them.

Hannibal didn't voice any of this to Harvey. Yet Harvey felt Hannibal, in that simple two-word sentence, understood far more than the words normally would convey. It was genuine, not a throw away remark. Harvey wasn't blind. He could see how devoted the two men were to each other. He didn't need to imagine the hardship the two faced at their separation, he was facing it himself.

 

"Arrested?!" BA couldn't believe it.

The team was at Harvey's condo, huddled at the dining table. Murdock had just blurted out, "What da ya mean he's not a real lawyer?!"

Hannibal addressed them, "Look guys. I know we're close to a possible resolution to our situation, but I can't see Harvey being able to carry on. Not with what's happened with Mike." Looking down to his clasped fingers he shook his head. "There have been threats to Mike's life in the current holding facility and if it goes that far, prison, if Harvey doesn't back off. I can't let us be responsible for that."

There was a murmur of reluctant agreement that spread through Face, BA and Murdock.

"I hope we are all on the same page here in that we are only close to a possibility of clearing this mess up." He looked at his three boys and his heart sank. Each of them knew what was at the end of the talk. Disappointment and resignation flickered in their eyes. "Harvey has agreed to turn over to us all of the information he and Mike have gathered. We can either follow up on it on our own or see if there's another attorney out there willing to take the case. Harvey said maybe he could..."

"I don't think you need to go on, Boss." BA let out a deep sigh and leaned back in his chair. "He has a much more pressing matter than us."

"Not to mention it was us that cast it on him," added Murdock.

Hannibal looked to his lover. Face wouldn't meet his eyes. "Face?"

Face's voice was shakey. As soon as he began speaking Hannibal wanted to tell him to stop, but of course he couldn't. "I'm so disappointed," he began. "I know it's the right thing to back away, but I wanted this so badly for all of.... I wanted...." He abruptly stood up from the table to look out over the city.

Murdock spared a quick look at Hannibal before he was up and stroking his hand up and down Face's back. Their LT looked at him then the floor. Murdock pulled him into an embrace. BA and Hannibal watched as the two friends carried on their silent conversation. Hannibal knew this was hitting Face hard. It was going to take a lot of effort to keep him stable. BA's words of medication for him came back to mind.

Disheartened, BA looked back to Hannibal and could only shake his head. It was a blow to all of them. The best thing they could do at that point was not make Harvey have to say goodbye.


	20. Chapter 20

"Godammit, Harvey. Find them!"

"Where Jessica?! Where do you suggest I look?"

"We're not losing this case! We're not losing these clients! It's too important to the firm."

"They're gone Jessica. Besides, my priorities have shifted to Mike."

"That godamn kid has been a thorn in my side from the moment he walked in the door. He's caused us nothing but trouble since he showed up."

"Yeah, Jessica? Really? You want to sing that tired tune....again?! You know as well as every other person in this firm how valuable Mike has been."

"I would expect you to say that. After all..." She stopped herself. Raising her chin, she looked down her nose at Harvey. It was an attempt to make him feel small.

All it did was anger him further. "After all, what?! After all, I'm sleeping with him? After all, we've established a relationship? After all, I'm in love with him?! Tell me, Jessica! After all, what?!"

Jessica measured her tone and expression, "Take your pick, Harvey."

She may as well have sliced him open with her impeccably manicured nails. He could only glare at her. He owed it to Mike not to drag his name into a gutter fight. Instead, in an equally measured tone, he said, "They're gone Jessica. I have no way of finding them. It's what they do, disappear."

The memory of Mike's weight in his arms suddenly clung to him. He walked to the line of signed basketballs along his window ledge. Looking out over the city at night he said more to himself than to the woman behind him, "Mike needs me. I'm going into battle for him." He paused, looking down at the ball directly in front of him before returning his gaze out the window. "The A-Team? They're ghosts."

 

 

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